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FHE  EMPEROR 


PORTUGALLIA 


1   SELMA  LAGERLOF  i 


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THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 


Books  by  the  Same  Author 

JERUSALEM,  A  Novel 

(Trans,  from  Swedish  by  Felma  Staansion  Howard) 

CHRIST  LEGENDS 

(Trans,  from  Swedish  by  Felma  StoansUm  Howard) 

WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES  OF  NILS 

(Trans,  from  Swedish  by  Felma  Swanston  Howard) 

FURTHER  ADVENTURES  OF  NILS 

(Trans,  from  Swedish  by  Felma  Swanston  Howard) 

GIRL  FROM  THE  MARSH  CROFT 

(Trans,  from  Swedish  by  Felma  Swanston  Howard) 

LEGEND  OF  THE  SACRED  IMAGE 

(Trans,  from  Swedish  by  Felma  Swanston  Howard 

MIRACLES  OF  ANTICHRIST 

(Trans,  from  Swedish  by  Pauline  Bancroft  Flach) 

STORY  OF  GbSTA  BERLING 

(Trans,  from  Swedish  by  Pauline  Bancroft  Flach) 

FROM  A  SWEDISH  HOMESTEAD 

(Trans,  from  Swedish  by  Jessie  Brochner) 


THE  EMPEROR  OF 
PORTUGALLIA 


FROM  THE  SWEDISH  OF 

SELMA  LAGERLOF 


TRANSLATED  BY 

VELMA  SWANSTON  HOWARD 


Garden  City  New  York 

DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY 

1916 


Copyright,  1916,  by 
DOUBLEDAY,  PaGE  &  CoMPANY 

Ml  rights  reserved,  including  that  of 
translation  into  foreign  languages 


Coll«g» 

FT 

CONTENTS       '^P-  ^ 
BOOK  ONE 


PACK 


The  Beating  Heart 3 

Glory  Goldie  Sunnycastle 12 

The  Christening 17 

The  Vaccination  Bee 22 

The  Birthday 27 

Christmas  Morn         31 

Glory  Goldie's  Illness 38 

Calling  on  Relatives 44 

The  School  Examination 48 

The  Contest 55 

Fishing 62 

Agrippa 69 

Forbidden  Fruit 75 

BOOK  TWO 

Lars  Gunnarson 85 

The  Red  Dress 91 

The  New  Master 96 

V 


1221886 


vi  CONTENTS 


PACK 


On  the  Mountain-top 104 

The  Eve  of  Departure no 

At  the  Pier 114 

The  Letter 1 19 

August  Dar  Nol 125 

October  the  First 130 

The  Dream  Begins 139 

Heirlooms 145 

Clothed  in  Satin 152 

Stars 155 

Waiting 160 

The  Empress 164 

The  Emperor 169 

BOOK  THREE 

The  Emperor's  Song 177 

The  Seventeenth  of  August       ......  183 

Katrina  and  Jan 191 

Bjorn  Hindrickson*s  Funeral 198 

The  Dying  Heart 208 

Deposed 213 

The  Catechetical  Meeting 222 

An  Old  Troll 232 


CONTENTS  vii 


PAOS 


The  Sunday  after  Midsummer  .     .     .     .     .     .  242 

Summemight 259 

The  Emperor's  Consort 270 

BOOK  FOUR 

The  Welcome  Greeting 275 

The  Flight 286 

Held! 296 

Jan's  Last  Words 304 

The  Passing  of  Katrina 311 

The  Burial  of  the  Emperor 314 


BOOK  ONE 


THE  BEATING  HEART 

JAN  of  RufHuck  Croft  never  tired  of  telling  about 
the  day  when  his  little  girl  came  into  the  world. 
In  the  early  morning  he  had  been  to  fetch 
the  midwife,  and  other  helpers;  all  the  forenoon  and  a 
good  part  of  the  afternoon  he  had  sat  on  the  chopping- 
block,  in  the  woodshed,  with  nothing  to  do  but  to  wait. 

Outside  it  rained  in  torrents  and  he  came  in  for  his 
share  of  the  downpour,  although  he  was  said  to  be  under 
cover.  The  rain  reached  him  in  the  guise  of  dampness 
through  cracks  in  the  walls  and  as  drops  from  a  leaky 
roof,  then  all  at  once,  through  the  doorless  opening  of 
the  shed,  the  wind  swept  a  regular  deluge  in  upon  him. 

"I  just  wonder  if  anybody  thinks  I'm  glad  to  have 
that  young  one  coming?"  he  muttered,  impatiently 
kicking  at  a  small  stick  of  wood  and  sending  it  flying 
across  the  yard.  "This  is  about  the  worst  luck  that 
could  come  to  me!  When  we  got  married,  Katrina 
and  I,  it  was  because  we  were  tired  of  drudging  as  hired 
girl  and  farmhand  for  Eric  of  Falla,  and  wanted  to 

3 


4         THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

plant  our  feet  under  our  own  table;  Jjut  certainly  not 
to  raise  children!" 

He  buried  his  face  in  his  hands  and  sighed  heavily. 
It  was  plain  that  the  chilly  dampness  and  the  long 
dreary  wait  had  somewhat  to  do  with  putting  him  in  a 
bad  humour,  but  they  were  by  no  means  the  only 
cause.  The  real  reason  for  his  lament  was  something 
far  more  serious. 

"Fve  got  to  work  every  day,"  he  reminded  himself, 
"work  from  early  morning  till  late  in  the  evening;  but 
so  far  I've  at  least  had  some  peace  nights.  Now  I  sup- 
pose that  young  one  will  be  squalling  the  whole  night 
long,  and  I'll  get  no  rest  then,  either."  i 

Whereupon  an  even  worse  fear  seized  him.  Taking 
his  hands  from  before  his  face  he  wrung  them  so  hard 
that  the  knuckles  fairly  cracked.  "Up  to  this  we've 
managed  to  scratch  along  pretty  well,  because  Katrina 
has  been  free  to  go  out  and  work,  the  same  as  myself, 
but  now  she'll  have  to  sit  at  home  and  take  care  of  that 
young  one." 

He  sat  staring  in  front  of  him  as  hopelessly  as  if  he 
had  beheld  Famine  itself  stalking  across  the  yard  and 
making  straight  for  his  hut. 

"Well!"  said  he,  bringing  his  two  fists  down  on  the 


THE  BEATING  HEART  5 

chopping-block  by  way  of  emphasis.  **I  just  want  to 
say  that  if  I'd  only  known  at  the  time  when  Eric  of 
Falla  came  to  me  and  offered  to  let  me  build  on  his 
ground,  and  gave  me  some  old  timber  for  a  little  shack, 
if  I  had  only  known  then  that  this  would  happen,  I'd 
have  said  no  to  the  whole  business,  and  gone  on  living 
in  the  stable-loft  at  Falla  for  the  rest  of  my  days." 

He  knew  these  were  strong  words,  but  felt  no  inclina- 
tion to  take  them  back. 

"Supposing   something  were   to   happen .?'*   he 

began — for  by  that  time  matters  had  reached  such  a 
pass  with  him  he  would  not  have  minded  it  if  the  child  had 
met  with  some  mish  ap  before  coming  into  the  world  — but 
he  never  finished  what  he  wished  to  say  as  he  was  in- 
terrupted by  a  faint  cry  from  the  other  side  of  the  wall. 

The  woodshed  was  attached  to  the  house  itself.  As 
he  listened,  he  heard  one  peep  after  the  other  from 
within,  and  knew,  of  course,  what  that  meant.  Then, 
for  a  long  while  he  sat  very  still,  feeling  neither  glad  nor 
sorry.     Finally  he  said,  with  a  little  shrug: 

"So  it's  here  at  last!  And  now,  for  the  love  of  God, 
they  might  let  me  slip  in  to  warm  myself!" 

But  that  comfort  was  not  to  be  his  so  soon!  There 
were  more  hours  of  waiting  ahead  of  him. 


6         THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

The  rain  still  came  down  in  sheets  and  the  wind  in- 
creased. Though  only  the  latter  part  of  August,  it 
was  as  disagreeable  as  a  November  day.  To  cap  the 
climax,  he  fell  to  brooding  over  something  that  made 
him  even  more  wretched.  He  felt  that  he  was  being 
slighted  and  set  aside. 

"There  are  three  womenfolk,  beside  the  midwife, 
in  there  with  Katrina,"  he  murmured.  "One  of  them, 
at  least,  might  have  taken  the  trouble  to  come  and 
tell  me  whether  it's  a  boy  or  a  girl." 

He  could  hear  them  bustling  about,  as  they  made  up 
a  fire,  and  saw  them  run  out  to  the  well  to  fetch  water, 
but  of  his  existence  no  one  seemed  to  be  aware. 

Of  a  sudden  he  clapped  his  hands  to  his  eyes  and 
began  to  rock  himself  backward  and  forward.  "My 
dear  Jan  Anderson,"  he  said  in  his  mind,  "what's 
wrong  with  you?  Why  does  everything  go  against 
you?  Why  must  you  always  have  such  a  dull  time  of 
it?  And  why  couldn't  you  have  married  some  good- 
looking  young  girl,  instead  of  that  ugly  old  Katrina 
fromFalla?" 

He  was  so  unspeakably  wretched !  Even  a  few  tears 
trickled  down  between  his  fingers.  "Why  are  you 
made  so  little  of  in  the  parish,  my  good  Jan  Anderson? 


THE  BEATING  HEART  7 

Why  should  you  always  be  pushed  back  for  others? 
You  know  there  are  those  who  are  just  as  poor  as  your- 
self and  whose  work  is  no  better  than  yours;  but  no 
one  gets  put  down  the  way  you  do.  What  can  be 
the  matter  with  you,  my  dear  Jan  Anderson?" 

These  were  queries  he  had  often  put  to  himself, 
though  in  vain,  and  he  had  no  hope  of  finding  the  an- 
swer to  them  now,  either.  After  all,  perhaps  there 
was  nothing  wrong  with  him?  Perhaps  the  only  ex- 
planation was  that  both  God  and  his  fellowmen  were 
unfair  to  him  ? 

When  that  thought  came  to  him,  he  took  his  hands 
from  before  his  eyes  and  tried  to  put  on  a  bold  face, 

"If  you're  ever  again  allowed  inside  your  own  house, 
my  good  Jan  Anderson,  you  mustn't  so  much  as  glance 
toward  the  young  one,  but  march  yourself  straight  over 
to  the  fireplace  and  sit  down,  without  saying  a  word. 
Or,  suppose  you  get  right  up  and  walk  away!  You 
don't  have  to  sit  here  any  longer  now  that  you  know  it's 
over  with.  Suppose  you  show  Katrina  and  the  rest 
of  the  womenfolk  that  you're  not  a  man  to  be  trifled 
with.     ..." 

He  was  just  on  the  point  of  rising,  when  the  mistress 
of  Falla  appeared  in  the  doorway  of  the  woodshed,  and. 


8         THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

with  a  charming  curtsy,  bade  him  come  inside  to  have 
a  peep  at  the  infant. 

Had  it  been  any  one  else  than  the  mistress  of  Falla 
herself  that  had  invited  him  in,  it  is  doubtful  whether  he 
would  have  gone  at  all,  angry  as  he  was.  Her  he  had 
to  follow,  of  course,  but  he  took  his  own  time  about  it. 
He  tried  to  assume  the  air  and  bearing  of  Eric  of  Falla, 
when  the  latter  strode  across  the  floor  of  the  town  hall 
to  deposit  his  vote  in  the  ballot-box,  and  succeeded  re- 
markably well  in  looking  quite  as  solemn  and  important. 

"Please  walk  in,"  said  the  mistress  of  Falla,  opening 
the  door  for  him,  then  stepping  aside  to  let  him  go  first. 

One  glance  at  the  room  told  him  that  everything 
had  been  cleaned  and  tidied  up  in  there.  The  coflPee- 
pot,  newly  polished  and  full  and  steaming,  stood  at 
the  edge  of  the  hearth,  to  cool;  the  table,  over  by  the 
window,  was  spread  with  a  snow-white  cover,  on  which 
were  arranged  dainty  flowered  cups  and  saucers  be- 
longing to  the  mistress  of  Falla.  Katrina  lay  on  the 
bed  and  two  of  the  women,  who  had  come  to  lend  a 
hand,  stood  pressed  against  the  wall  so  that  he  should 
have  a  free  and  unobstructed  view  of  all  the  prepara- 
tions. Directly  in  front  of  the  table  stood  the  midwife, 
with  a  bundle  on  her  arm. 


THE  BEATING  HEART  9 

Jan  could  not  help  thinking  that  for  once  in  his  life 
he  appeared  to  be  the  centre  of  attraction.  Katrina 
glanced  up  at  him  appealingly,  as  if  wanting  to  ask 
whether  he  was  pleased  with  her.  The  other  women, 
too,  all  turned  their  eyes  toward  him,  expectantly 
waiting  for  some  word  of  praise  from  him  for  all  the 
trouble  they  had  been  to  on  his  account. 

However,  it  is  not  so  easy  to  appear  jubilant  when 
one  has  been  half  frozen  and  out  of  sorts  all  day!  Jan 
could  not  clear  his  face  of  that  Eric-of-Falla  expression, 
and  stood  there  without  saying  a  word. 

Then  the  midwife  took  a  step  forward.  The  hut 
was  so  tiny  that  that  one  stride  put  her  square  in  front 
of  him,  so  that  she  could  place  the  child  in  his  arms. 

"Now  Jan  shall  have  a  peek  at  the  HT  lassie  She's 
what  I'd  call  a  real  baby  .'"  said  the  midwife. 

And  there  stood  Jan,  holding  in  his  two  hands  some- 
thing soft  and  warm  done  up  in  a  big  shawl,  a  comer 
of  which  had  been  turned  back  that  he  might  see  the 
little  wrinkled  face  and  the  tiny  wizzened  hands.  He 
was  wondering  what  the  womenfolk  expected  him  to 
do  with  that  which  had  been  thrust  upon  him,  when  he 
felt  a  sudden  shock  that  shook  both  him  and  the  child. 
It  had  not  come  from  any  of  the  women  and  whether 


lo       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

it  had  passed  through  the  child  to  him  or  through  him 
to  the  child,  he  could  not  tell. 

Immediately  after,  the  heart  of  him  began  to  beat 
in  his  breast  as  it  had  never  done  before.  Now  he 
was  no  longer  cold,  or  sad,  or  worried.  Nor  did  he  feel 
angry.  All  was  well  with  him.  But  he  could  not  com- 
prehend why  there  was  a  thumping  and  a  beating  in  his 
breast,  when  he  had  not  been  dancing,  or  running,  or 
climbing  hills. 

"My  good  woman,"  he  said  to  the  midwife,  "do 
lay  your  hand  here  and  feel  of  my  heart!  It  seems  to 
beat  so  queerly." 

"Why,  it*s  a  regular  attack  of  the  heart!"  the  mid- 
wife declared.  "But  perhaps  you're  subject  to  these 
spells?" 

"No,"  he  assured  her.  "I've  never  had  one  before — 
not  just  in  this  way." 

"  Do  you  feel  bad  ?    Are  you  in  pain  ?" 

"Oh,  no!" 

Then  the  midwife  could  not  make  out  what  ailed 
him.  "Anyhow,"  said  she,  "I'll  relieve  you  of  the 
child." 

But  now  Jan  felt  he  did  not  want  to  give  up  the 
child.     "Ah,  let  me  hold  the  little  girl!"  he  pleaded. 


THE  BEATING  HEART  ii 

The  womenfolk  must  have  read  something  in  his 
eyes,  or  caught  something  in  his  tone  that  pleased  them: 
for  the  midwife's  mouth  had  a  peculiar  quirk  and  the 
other  women  all  burst  out  laughing. 

"Say  Jan,  have  you  never  cared  so  much  for  some- 
body that  your  heart  has  been  set  athrobbing  because 
of  her?"  asked  the  midwife. 

"No  indeed!"  said  Jan. 

But  at  that  moment  he  knew  what  it  was  that  had 
quickened  the  heart  in  him.  Moreover  he  was  begin- 
ning to  perceive  what  had  been  amiss  with  him  all  his 
life,  and  that  he  whose  heart  does  not  respond  to  either 
joy  or  sorrow  can  hardly  be  called  human. 


GLORY  GOLDIE  SUNNYCASTLE 

THE  following  day  Jan  of  Ruffluck  Croft  stood 
waiting  for  hours  on  the  doorstep  of  his 
hut,  with  the  little  girl  in  his  arms. 
This,  too,  was  a  long  wait.  But  now  it  was  all  so 
different  from  the  day  before.  He  was  standing  there 
in  such  good  company  that  he  could  become  neither 
weary  nor  disheartened.  Nor  could  he  begin  to  tell 
how  good  it  felt  to  be  holding  the  warm  little  body  pressed 
close  to  his  heart.  It  occurred  to  him  that  hitherto  he 
had  been  mighty  sour  and  unpleasant,  even  to  him- 
self; but  now  all  was  bliss  and  sweetness  within  him. 
He  had  never  dreamed  that  one  could  be  so  gladdened 
by  just  loving  some  one. 

He  had  not  stationed  himself  on  the  doorstep  with- 
out a  purpose,  as  may  be  assumed.  It  was  an  impor- 
tant matter  that  he  must  try  to  settle  while  standing 
there.  He  and  Katrina  had  spent  the  whole  morning 
trying  to  choose  a  name  for  the  child.  They  had  been 
at  it  for  hours,  without  arriving  at  a  decision.     Finally 


GLORY  GOLDIE  SUNNYCASTLE         13 

Katrina  had  said:  "I  don't  see  but  that  you'll  have  to 
take  the  child  and  go  stand  on  the  stoop  with  her. 
Then  you  can  ask  the  first  female  that  happens  along 
what  her  name  is,  and  the  name  she  names  we  must 
give  to  the  girl,  be  it  ugly  or  pretty." 

Now  the  hut  lay  rather  out  of  the  way  and  it  was 
seldom  that  any  one  passed  by  their  place;  so  Jan  had 
to  stand  out  there  ever  so  long,  without  seeing  a  soul. 
This  was  also  a  gray  day,  though  no  rain  fell.  It  was 
not  windy  and  cold,  however,  but  rather  a  bit  sultry. 
If  Jan  had  not  held  the  little  girl  in  his  arms  he  would 
have  lost  heart. 

"My  dear  Jan  Anderson,"  he  would  have  said  to 
himself.  "You  must  remember  that  you  live  away 
down  in  the  Ashdales,  by  Dove  Lake,  where  there  isn't 
but  one  decent  farmhouse  and  here  and  there  a  poor 
fisherman's  hut.  Who'll  you  find  hereabout  with  a 
name  that's  pretty  enough  to  give  to  your  Httle  girl?" 

But  since  this  was  something  which  concerned  his 
daughter  he  never  doubted  that  all  would  come  right. 
He  stood  looking  down  toward  the  lake,  as  if  not  caring 
to  see  how  shut  in  from  the  whole  countryside  it  lay, 
in  its  rock-basin.  He  thought  it  might  just  happen 
that  some  high-toned  lady,  with  a  grand  name,  would 


14       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

come  rowing  across  from  Doveness,  on  the  south  shore 
of  the  lake.  Because  of  the  Httle  girl  he  felt  almost  sure 
this  would  come  to  pass. 

The  child  slept  the  whole  time;  so  for  all  of  her  he 
could  have  stood  there  and  waited  as  long  as  he  liked. 
But  the  worrisome  person  was  Katrina!  Every  other 
minute  she  would  ask  him  whether  any  one  had  come 
along  yet  and  if  he  thought  it  prudent  to  keep  the 
infant  out  in  the  damp  air  any  longer. 

Jan  turned  his  eyes  up  toward  Great  Peak,  rising 
high  above  the  little  groves  and  garden-patches  of  the 
Ashdales,  like  a  watch  tower  atop  some  huge  fortress, 
keeping  all  strangers  at  a  distance.  Still  it  might  be 
possible  that  some  great  lady,  who  had  been  up  to  the 
Peak,  to  view  the  beautiful  landscape,  had  taken  the 
wrong  path  back  and  strayed  in  the  direction  of  RufF- 
luck. 

He  quieted  Katrina  as  well  as  he  could.  The  child 
was  safe  enough,  he  assured  her.  Now  that  he  had 
stood  out  there  so  long  he  wanted  to  wait  another 
minute  or  so. 

Not  a  soul  hove  in  sight,  but  he  was  confident  that  if 
he  just  stuck  to  it,  the  help  would  come.  It  could  not 
be  otherwise.     It  would  not  have  surprised  him  if  a 


GLORY  GOLDIE  SUNNYCASTLE  15 

queen  in  a  golden  chariot  had  come  driving  over  moun- 
tains and  through  thickets,  to  bestow  her  name  upon 
his  little  girl. 

More  moments  passed,  and  he  knew  that  dusk 
would  soon  be  falling.  Then  he  would  not  be  let  stand 
there  longer.  Katrina  looked  at  the  clock,  and  again 
begged  him  to  come  inside. 

"Just  you  be  patient  a  second!"  he  said.  **I  think 
I  see  something  peeping  out  over  west." 

The  sky  had  been  overcast  the  whole  day,  but  at 
that  moment  the  sun*  came  bursting  out  from  behind 
the  clouds,  and  darted  a  few  rays  down  toward  the 
child. 

"I  don't  wonder  at  your  wanting  to  have  a  peek  at 
the  liT  lassie  before  you  go  down,"  said  Jan  to  the  sun. 
"She's  something  worth  seeing!" 

The  sun  came  forth,  clearer  and  clearer,  and  shed 
a  rose-coloured  glow  over  both  the  child  and  the  hut. 

"Maybe  you'd  like  to  be  godmother  to  'er?"  said 
Jan  of  Ruffluck. 

To  which  the  sun  made  no  direct  reply.  She  just 
beamed  for  a  moment,  then  drew  her  mist-cloak  about 
her  and  disappeared. 

*In  Swedish  the  sun  is  feminine. 


i6       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

Once  again  Katrina  was  heard  from.  "Was  any  one 
there?"  asked  she.  "I  thought  I  heard  you  talking 
to  somebody.     You'd  better  come  inside  now." 

"Yes,  now  I'm  coming,"  he  answered,  and  stepped 
in.  "Such  a  grand  old  aristocrat  just  went  by!  But 
she  was  in  so  great  a  hurry  I  had  barely  time  to  say 
*go'day'  to  her,  before  she  was  gone." 

** Goodness  me!  How  provoking!"  exclaimed  Ka- 
trina. "And  after  we'd  waited  so.long,  too!  I  suppose 
you  didn't  have  a  chance  to  ask  what  her  name  was.?" 

"Oh,  yes.  Her  name  is  Glory  Goldie  Sunnycastle — 
that  much  I  got  out  of  her." 

"Glory  Goldie  Sunnycastle/  But  won't  that  name 
be  a  bit  too  dazzling.?"  was  Katrina's  only  comment. 

Jan  of  Ruffluck  was  positively  astonished  at  himself 
for  having  hit  upon  something  so  splendid  as  making 
the  sun  godmother  to  his  child.  He  had  indeed  become 
a  changed  man  from  the  moment  the  little  girl  was  first 
laid  in  his  arms! 


THE  CHRISTENING 

WHEN  the  little  girl  of  Ruffluck  Croft  was  to  be 
taken  to  the  parsonage,  to  be  christened, 
that  father  of  hers  behaved  so  foolishly  that 
Katrina  and  the  godparents  were  quite  put  out  with 
him.  • 

It  was  the  wife  of  Eric  of  Falla  who  was  to  bear  the 
child  to  the  christening.  She  sat  in  the  cart  with  the 
infant  while  Eric  of  Falla,  himself,  walked  alongside 
the  vehicle,  and  held  the  reins.  The  first  part  of  the 
road,  all  the  way  to  Doveness,  was  so  wretched  it  could 
hardly  be  called  a  road,  and  of  course  Eric  had  to  drive 
very  carefully,  since  he  had  the  unchristened  child  to 
convey. 

Jan  had  himself  brought  the  child  from  the  house 
and  turned  it  over  to  the  godmother,  and  had  seen  them 
set  out.  No  one  knew  better  than  he  into  what  good 
hands  it  was  being  intrusted.  And  he  also  knew  that 
Eric  of  Falla  was  just  as  confident  at  handling  the  reins 

17 


«8      THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

as  at  everything  else.  As  for  Eric's  wife — why  she  had 
borne  and  reared  seven  children;  therefore  he  should 
not  have  felt  the  least  bit  uneasy. 

Once  they  were  well  on  their  way  and  Jan  had  again 
gone  back  to  his  digging,  a  terrible  sense  of  fear  came 
over  him.  What  if  Eric's  horse  should  shy?  What  if 
the  parson  should  drop  the  child  ?  What  if  the  mistress 
of  Falla  should  wrap  too  many  shawls  around  the  little 
girl,  so  she'd  be  smothered  when  they  arrived  with  her 
at  the  parsonage  f 

He  argued  with  himself  that  it  was  wrong  in  him  to 
borrow  trouble,  when  his  child  had  such  godfolk  as  the 
master  and  mistress  of  Falla.  Yet  his  anxiety  would  not 
be  stilled.  Of  a  sudden  he  dropped  his  spade  and  started 
for  the  parsonage  just  as  he  was — taking  the  short  cut 
across  the  heights,  and  running  at  top  speed  all  the 
way.  When  Eric  of  Falla  drove  into  the  stable-yard 
of  the  parsonage  the  first  person  that  met  his  eyes  was 
Jan  of  Ruffluck. 

Now,  it  is  not  considered  the  proper  thing  for  the 
father  or  mother  to  be  present  at  the  christening,  and 
Jan  saw  at  once  that  the  Falla  folk  were  displeased  at 
his  coming  to  the  parsonage.  Eric  did  not  beckon  to 
him  to  come  and  help  with  the  horse,  but  unharnessed 


THE  CHRISTENING  19 

the  beast  himself,  and  the  mistress  of  Falla,  drawing 
the  child  closer  to  her,  crossed  the  yard  and  went  into 
the  parson's  kitchen,  without  saying  a  word  to  Jan. 

Since  the  godparents  would  not  so  much  as  notice 
him,  he  dared  not  approach  them;  but  when  the  god- 
mother swept  past  him  he  heard  a  little  piping  sound 
from  the  bundle  on  her  arm.  Then  he  at  least  knew 
the  child  had  not  been  smothered. 

He  felt  it  was  stupid  in  him  not  to  have  gone  home  at 
once.  But  now  he  was  so  sure  the  parson  would  drop 
the  child,  that  he  had  to  stay. 

He  lingered  a  moment  in  the  stable-yard,  then  went 
straight  over  to  the  house  and  up  the  steps  into  the 
hallway. 

It  is  the  worst  possible  form  for  the  father  to  appear 
before  the  clergyman,  particularly  when  his  child  has 
such  sponsors  as  Eric  of  Falla,  and  his  wife.  When 
the  door  to  the  pastor's  study  swung  open  and  Jan  of 
Ruffluck  in  his  soiled  workaday  clothes  calmly  shuffled 
into  the  room,  just  after  the  pastor  had  begun  the 
service  and  there  was  no  way  of  driving  him  out,  the 
godparents  swore  to  themselves  that  once  they  were 
home  they  would  take  him  severely  to  task  for  his 
unseemly  behaviour. 


20       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

The  christening  passed  off  as  it  should  without  the 
slightest  occasion  for  a  mishap,  and  Jan  of  Ruffluck 
had  nothing  for  his  intrusion.  Just  before  the  close  of 
the  service  he  opened  the  door  and  quietly  slipped  out 
again,  into  the  hallway.  He  saw  of  course  that  every- 
thing seemed  to  go  quite  smoothly  and  nicely  without 
his  help. 

In  a  little  while  Eric  of  Falla  and  his  wife  also  came 
out  into  the  hall.  They  were  going  across  to  the 
kitchen,  where  the  mistress  of  Falla  had  left  the  child's 
outer  wraps  and  shawls.  Eric  went  ahead  and  opened 
the  door  for  his  wife,  whereupon  two  kittens  came  dart- 
ing into  the  hallway  and  tumbled  over  each  other  right 
in  front  of  the  woman's  feet,  tripping  her.  She  felt 
herself  going  headlong  and  barely  had  time  to  think: 
"I'm  falling  with  the  child;  it  will  be  killed  and  I'll  be 
heartbroken  for  life,"  when  a  strong  hand  seized  and 
steadied  her.  Looking  round  she  saw  that  her  rescuer 
was  Jan  Anderson  of  Ruffluck,  who  had  lingered  in  the 
hallway  as  if  knowing  he  would  be  needed  there.  Be- 
fore she  could  recover  herself  sufficiently  to  thank  him, 
he  was  gone. 

And  when  she  and  her  husband  came  driving  home, 
there  stood  Jan  digging  away.     After  the  accident  had 


THE  CHRISTENING  21 

been  averted,  he  had  felt  that  he  might  safely  go  back 
to  his  work. 

Neither  Eric  nor  his  wife  said  a  word  to  him  about 
his  unseemly  behaviour.  Instead,  the  mistress  of  Falla 
invited  him  in  for  afternoon  coffee,  muddy  and  begrimed 
as  he  was  from  working  in  the  wet  soil. 


THE  VACCINATION  BEE 

WHEN  the  little  girl  of  Ruffluck  was  to  be  vac- 
cinated no  one  questioned  the  right  of  her 
father  to  accompany  her,  since  that  was  his 
wish.  The  vaccinating  took  place  one  evening  late  in 
August.  When  Katrina  left  home,  with  the  child,  it 
was  so  dark  that  she  was  glad  to  have  some  one  along 
who  could  help  her  over  stiles  and  ditches,  and  other 
difficulties  of  the  wretched  road. 

The  vaccination  bee  was  held  that  year  at  Falla. 
The  housewife  had  made  a  big  fire  on  the  hearth  in  the 
living-room  and  thought  it  unnecessary  to  furnish  any 
other  illumination,  except  a  thin  tallow  candle  that 
burned  on  a  small  table,  at  which  the  sexton  was  to 
perform  his  surgical  work. 

The  Ruffluck  folk,  as  well  as  every  one  else,  found  the 
room  uncommonly  light,  although  it  was  as  dim  at  the 
back  as  if  a  dark-gray  wall  had  been  raised  there — 
making  the  room  appear  smaller  than  it  was.  And 
in  this  semi-darkness  could  be  dimly  seen  a  group  of 

22 


THE  VACCINATION  BEE  23 

women  with  babes  in  arms  that  had  to  be  trundled, 
and  fed,  and  tended  in  every  way. 

The  mothers  were  busy  unwinding  shawls  and  muf- 
flers from  their  little  ones,  drawing  off  their  slips,  and 
unloosing  the  bands  of  their  undershirts,  so  that  the 
upper  portion  of  their  little  bodies  could  be  easily 
exposed  when  the  sexton  called  them  up  to  the  op- 
erating table. 

It  was  remarkably  quiet  in  the  room,  considering 
there  were  so  many  little  cry-babies  all  gathered  in  one 
place.  The  youngsters  seemed  to  be  having  such  a 
good  time  gazing  at  one  another  they  forgot  to  make  a 
noise.  The  mothers  were  quiet  because  they  wanted 
to  hear  what  the  sexton  had  to  say;  for  he  kept  up  a 
steady  flow  of  small  talk. 

"There's  no  fun  like  going  about  vaccinating  and 
looking  at  all  the  pretty  babies,"  said  he.  "Now  we 
shall  see  whether  it's  a  fine  lot  you've  brought  me  this 
year." 

The  man  was  not  only  the  sexton  of  the  parish,  where 
he  had  lived  all  his  life,  but  he  was  also  the  school- 
master. He  had  vaccinated  the  mothers,  had  taught 
them,  and  seen  them  confirmed  and  married.  Now 
he  was  going  to  vaccinate  their  babies.    This  was  the 


24       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

children's  first  contact  with  the  man  who  was  to  play 
such  an  important  part  in  their  lives. 

It  seemed  to  be  a  good  beginning.  One  mother  after 
the  other  came  forward  and  sat  down  on  a  chair  at  the 
table,  each  holding  her  child  so  that  the  light  would  fall 
upon  its  bared  left  arm;  and  the  sexton,  chattering  all 
the  while,  then  made  the  three  tiny  scratches  in  the 
smooth  baby  skin,  without  so  much  as  a  peep  coming 
from  the  youngster.  Afterward  the  mother  took  her 
baby  over  to  the  fireplace  to  let  the  vaccine  dry  in. 
Meantime  she  thought  of  what  the  sexton  had  said 
of  her  child — that  it  was  large  and  beautiful  and  would 
some  day  be  a  credit  to  the  family;  that  it  would  grow 
up  to  be  as  good  as  its  father  and  grandfather — or  even 
better. 

Everything  passed  off  thus  peacefully  and  quietly 
until  it  came  to  Katrina's  turn  at  the  table  with  her 
Glory  Goldie. 

The  little  girl  simply  would  not  be  vaccinated.  She 
screamed  and  fought  and  kicked.  Katrina  tried  to 
hush  her  and  the  sexton  spoke  softly  and  gently  to  her; 
but  it  did  no  good.  The  poor  little  thing  was  uncon- 
trollably frightened. 

Katrina  had  to  take  her  away  and  try  to  get  her 


THE  VACCINATION  BEE  25 

quieted.  Then  a  big,  sturdy  boy-baby  let  himself  be 
vaccinated  with  never  a  whimper.  But  the  instant 
Katrina  was  back  at  the  table  with  her  girl  the  trouble 
started  afresh.  She  could  not  hold  the  child  still 
long  enough  for  the  sexton  to  make  even  a  single  in- 
cision. 

Now  there  was  no  one  left  to  vaccinate  but  Glory 
Goldie  of  Ruffluck.  Katrina  was  in  despair  because  of 
her  child's  bad  behaviour.  She  did  not  know  what  to 
do  about  it,  when  Jan  suddenly  emerged  from  the 
shadow  of  the  door  and  took  the  child  in  his  arms. 
Then  Katrina  got  up  to  let  him  take  her  place  at  the 
table. 

"You  just  try  it  once!"  she  said  scornfully,  "and 
let's  see  whether  you'll  do  any  better."  For  Katrina 
did  not  regard  the  little  toil-worn  servant  from  Falla 
whom  she  had  married  as  in  any  sense  her  superior. 

Before  sitting  down,  Jan  slipped  off  his  jacket.  He 
must  have  rolled  up  his  shirt  sleeve  while  standing  in 
the  dark,  at  the  back  of  the  room,  for  his  left  arm  was 
bared. 

He  wanted  so  much  to  be  vaccinated,  he  said.  He 
had  never  been  vaccinated  but  once,  and  there  was 
nothing  in  the  world  he  feared  so  much  as  the  smallpox. 


26       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

The  instant  the  little  girl  saw  his  bare  arm  she  became 
quiet,  and  looked  at  her  father  with  wide,  comprehend- 
ing eyes.  She  followed  closely  every  movement  of  the 
sexton,  as  he  put  in  the  three  short  red  strokes  on  the 
arm.  Glancing  from  one  to  the  other,  she  noticed  that 
her  father  was  not  faring  so  very  badly. 

When  the  sexton  had  finished  with  Jan,  the  latter 
turned  to  him,  and  said : 

"The  liT  lassie  is  so  still  now  that  maybe  you  can 
try  it." 

The  sexton  tried,  and  this  time  everything  went  well. 
The  little  girl  was  as  quiet  as  a  mouse  the  whole  time — 
the  same  knowing  look  in  her  eyes.  The  sexton  also 
kept  silence  until  he  had  finished;  then  he  said  to  the 
father: 

"If  you  did  that  only  to  calm  the  child,  we  could  just 
as  well  have  made  believe ** 

"No,  Sexton,"  said  Jan,  "then  you  would  not  have 
succeeded.  You  never  saw  the  Hke  of  that  child!  So 
don't  imagine  you  can  get  her  to  believe  in  something 
that  isn't  what  it  passes  for." 


THE  BIRTHDAY 

ON  THE  little  girFs  first  birthday  her  father  was 
out  digging  in  the  field  at  Falla;  he  tried  to 
recall  to  mind  how  it  had  been  in  the  old  days, 
when  he  had  no  one  to  think  about  while  at  work  in 
the  field;  when  he  did  not  have  the  beating  heart  in 
him,  and  when  he  had  no  longings  and  was  never 
anxious. 

"To  think  that  a  man  can  be  like  that!"  he  mused 
in  contempt  of  his  old  self.  "If  I  were  as  rich  as  Eric 
of  Falla  or  as  strong  as  Borje,  who  digs  here  beside  me, 
it  would  be  as  nothing  to  having  a  throbbing  heart  in 
your  breast.     That's  the  only  thing  that  counts." 

Glancing  over  at  his  comrade,  a  powerfully  built 
fellow  who  could  do  again  as  much  work  as  himself, 
he  noticed  that  to-day  the  man  had  not  gone  ahead 
as  rapidly  as  usual  with  the  digging. 

They  worked  by  the  job.  Borje  always  took  upon 
himself  more  work  than  did  Jan,  yet  they  always  fin- 
ished at  about  the  same  time.     That  day,  however, 

a? 


28       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

it  went  slowly  for  Borje;  he  did  not  even  keep  up  with 
Jan,  but  was  left  far  behind. 

But  then  Jan  had  been  working  for  all  he  was  worth, 
that  he  might  the  sooner  get  back  to  his  little  girl.  That 
day  he  had  longed  for  her  more  than  usual.  She  was 
always  drowsy  evenings;  so  unless  he  hurried  home 
early,  he  was  likely  to  find  her  asleep  for  the  night 
when  he  got  home. 

When  Jan  had  completed  his  work  he  saw  that  Borje 
was  not  even  half  through.  Such  a  thing  had  never 
happened  before  in  all  the  years  they  had  worked  to- 
gether, and  Jan  was  so  astonished  he  went  over  to 
him. 

Borje  was  standing  deep  down  in  the  ditch,  trying  to 
loosen  a  clump  of  sod.  He  had  stepped  on  a  piece  of 
glass,  and  received  an  ugly  gash  on  the  bottom  of  his 
foot,  so  that  he  could  hardly  step  on  it.  Imagine  the 
torture  of  having  to  stand  and  push  the  spade  into  the 
soil  with  an  injured  foot! 

"Aren't  you  going  to  quit  soon?"  asked  Jan. 

"I'm  obliged  to  finish  this  job  to-day,"  replied  the 
comrade.  "I  can't  get  any  grain  from  Eric  of  Falla 
till  the  work  is  done,  and  we're  all  out  of  rye-meal." 

"Then  go '-night  for  to-day,"  said  Jan. 


THE  BIRTHDAY  29 

Borje  did  not  respond.  He  was  too  tired  and  done  up 
to  give  even  the  customary  good-night  salutation. 

Jan  of  Ruffluck  walked  to  the  edge  of  the  field;  but 
there  he  halted. 

"What  does  it  matter  to  the  little  girl  whether  or  not 
you  come  home  for  her  birthday  ? "  he  thought.  "  She's 
just  as  well  off  without  you.  But  Borje  has  seven  kid- 
dies at  home,  and  no  food  for  them.  Shall  you  let 
them  starve  so  that  you  can  go  home  and  play  with 
Glory  Goldie?" 

Then  he  wheeled  round,  walked  back  to  Borje,  and 
got  down  into  the  ditch  to  help  him.  Jan  was  rather 
tired  after  his  day's  toil  and  could  not  work  very  fast. 
It  was  almost  dark  when  they  got  through. 

"Glory  Goldie  must  be  asleep  this  long  while," 
thought  Jan,  when  he  finally  put  in  the  spade  for  the 
last  bit  of  earth. 

"Go'-night  for  to-day,"  he  called  back  to  Borje  for 
the  second  time. 

"Go'-night,"  returned  Borje,  "and  thanks  to  you  for 
the  help.  Now  I  must  hurry  along  and  get  my  rye. 
Another  time  I'll  give  you  a  lift,  be  sure  of  that! " 

"I  don't  want  any  pay.     .     .     .     Go'-night!" 

"Don't  you  want  anything  for  helping  me?"  asked 


30       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

Borje.    '*  What*s  come  over  you,  that  you're  so  stuck-up 

all  at  once?" 

"Well,  you  see,  it's — it's  the  lassie's  birthday  to-day.'* 

"And  for  that  I  got  help  with  my  digging?" 

"Yes,  for  that  and  for  something  else,  too!    Well — 

good  bye  to  you!'* 

Jan  hurried  away  so  as  not  to  be  tempted  to  explain 

what  that  something  else  was.     It  had  been  on  the 

tip  of  his  tongue  to  say:  "To-day  is  not  only  Glory 

Goldie's  birthday,  but  it's  also  the  birthday  of  my 

heart." 

It  was  as  well,  perhaps,  that  he  did  not  say  it,  for 

Borje  would  surely  have  thought  Jan  had  gone  out  of 

his  mind. 


CHRISTMAS  MORN 

CHRISTMAS  morning  Jan  took  the  little  girl 
along  with  him  to  church;  she  was  then  just 
one  year  and  four  months  old. 

Katrina  thought  the  girl  rather  young  to  attend 
church  and  feared  she  would  set  up  a  howl,  as  she  had 
done  at  the  vaccination  bee;  but  inasmuch  as  it  was 
the  custom  to  take  the  little  ones  along  to  Christmas 
Matins,  Jan  had  his  own  way. 

So  at  five  o'clock  on  Christmas  ^(lom  they  all  set  out. 
It  was  pitch  dark  and  cloudy,  but  not  cold;  in  fact  the 
air  was  almost  balmy,  and  quite  still,  as  it  usually  is 
toward  the  end  of  December. 

Before  coming  to  an  open  highway,  they  had  to  walk 
along  a  narrow  winding  path,  through  fields  and  groves 
in  the  Ashdales,  then  take  the  steep  winter-road  across 
Snipa  Ridge. 

The  big  farmhouse  at  Falla,  with  lighted  candles  at 
every  window,  stood  out  as  a  beacon  to  the  Ruffluck 
folk,  so  that  they  were  able  to  find  their  way  to  Borje's 

31 


32       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

hut;  there  they  met  some  of  their  neighbours,  bearing 
torches  they  had  prepared  on  Christmas  Eve.  Each 
torch-bearer  led  a  small  group  of  people  most  of  whom 
followed  in  silence;  but  all  were  happy;  they  felt  that 
they,  too,  like  the  Wise  Men  of  old,  were  following  a 
star,  in  quest  of  the  new-bom  King. 

When  they  came  to  the  forest  heights  they  had  to 
pass  by  a  huge  stone  which  had  been  hurled  at  Svartsjo 
Church,  by  a  giant  down  in  Frykerud,  but  which, 
luckily,  had  gone  over  the  steeple  and  dropped  here 
on  Snipa  Ridge.  When  the  church-goers  came  along,  the 
stone  lay,  as  usual,  on  the  ground.  But  they  knew, 
they  did,  that  in  the  night  it  had  been  raised  upon 
twelve  golden  pillars  and  that  the  trolls  had  danced 
and  feasted  under  it. 

It  was  not  so  very  pleasant  to  have  to  walk  past  a 
stone  like  that!  Jan  looked  over  at  Katrina  to  see 
whether  she  was  holding  the  little  girl  securely.  Ka- 
trina, calm  and  unconcerned,  walked  along,  chatting 
with  one  of  their  neighbours.  She  was  quite  oblivious, 
apparently,  to  the  terrors  of  the  place. 

The  spruce  trees  up  there  were  old  and  gnarled,  and 
their  branches  were  dotted  with  clumps  of  snow.  As 
seen  in  the  glow  of  the  torch  light,  one  could  not  but 


CHRISTMAS  MORN  33 

think  that  some  of  the  trees  were  really  trolls,  with 
gleaming  eyes  beneath  snow  hats,  and  long  sharp  claws 
protruding  from  thick  snow  mittens. 

It  was  all  very  well  so  long  as  they  held  themselves 
still.  But  what  if  one  of  them  should  suddenly  stretch 
forth  a  hand  and  seize  somebody?  There  was  no 
special  danger  for  grown-ups  and  old  people;  but  Jan 
had  always  heard  that  the  trolls  had  a  great  fond- 
ness for  small  children — the  smaller  the  better.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  Katrina  was  holding  the  little 
girl  very  carelessly.  It  would  be  no  trick  at  all  for 
the  huge  clawlike  troll  hands  to  snatch  the  child  from 
her.  Of  course  he  could  not  take  the  baby  out  of  her 
arms  in  a  dangerous  spot  like  this,  for  that  might  cause 
the  trolls  to  act. 

Murmurs  and  whispers  now  passed  from  tree-troll 
to  tree-troll;  the  branches  creaked  as  if  they  were  about 
to  bestir  themselves. 

Jan  did  not  dare  ask  the  others  if  they  saw  or  heard 
what  he  did.  A  question  of  that  sort  might  be  the 
very  thing  to  rouse  the  trolls.  In  this  agony  of  suspense 
he  knew  of  but  one  thing  to  do :  he  struck  up  a  psalm-tune. 
He  had  a  poor  singing  voice  and  had  never  before  sung  so 
any  one  could  hear  him.     He  was  so  weak  at  carrying  a 


34       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

tune  that  he  was  afraid  to  sing  out  even  in  church;  but 
now  he  had  to  sing,  no  matter  how  it  went.  He  observed 
that  the  neighbours  were  a  Httle  surprised.  Those  who 
walked  ahead  of  him  nudged  each  other  and  looked 
round;  but  that  did  not  stop  him;  he  had  to  continue. 

Immediately  one  of  the  womenfolk  whispered  to 
him:  "Wait  a  bit,  Jan,  and  I'll  help  you." 

She  took  up  the  Christmas  carol  in  the  correct  mel- 
ody and  the  correct  key.  It  sounded  beautiful,  this 
singing  in  the  night  among  the  trees,  and  soon  every- 
body joined  in. 

"Hail  Blessed  Morn,  by  prophets'  holy  words 
foretold,"  rang  out  on  the  air.  A  murmur  of  anguish 
came  from  the  tree-trolls;  they  bowed  their  heads  so 
that  their  wicked  eyes  were  no  longer  visible,  and  drew 
in  their  claws  under  spruce  needles  and  snow.  When 
the  last  measure  of  the  first  stanza  died  away,  no  one 
could  have  told  that  there  was  anything  besides  ordi- 
nary old  spruce  trees  on  the  forest  heights. 

The  torches  that  had  lighted  the  Ashdales  folk 
through  the  woods  were  burned  out  when  they  came  to 
the  highroad;  but  here  they  went  on,  guided  by  the 
lights  from  peasant  huts.    When  one  house  was  out  of 


CHRISTMAS  MORN  35 

sight,  they  glimpsed  another  in  the  distance,  and  every 
house  along  the  road  had  candles  burning  at  all  the  win- 
dows, to  guide  the  poor  wanderers  on  their  way  to  church. 

At  last  they  came  to  a  hillock,  from  which  the  church 
could  be  seen.  There  stood  the  House  of  God,  like 
some  gigantic  lantern,  light  streaming  out  through  all 
its  windows.  When  the  foot-farers  saw  this,  they  held 
their  breath.  After  all  the  little,  low-windowed  huts 
they  had  passed  along  the  way,  the  church  looked  mar- 
vellously big  and  marvellously  bright. 

At  sight  of  the  sacred  edifice  Jan  fell  to  thinking 
about  some  poor  folk  in  Palestine,  who  had  wandered 
in  the  night  from  Bethlehem  to  Jerusalem  with  a  child, 
their  only  comfort  and  joy,  who  was  to  be  circumcised 
in  the  Temple  of  the  Holy  City.  These  parents  had 
to  grope  their  way  in  the  darkness  of  night,  for  there 
were  many  who  sought  the  life  of  their  child. 

The  people  from  the  Ashdales  had  left  home  at  an 
early  hour,  so  as  to  reach  the  church  ahead  of  those  who 
drove  thither.  But  when  they  were  quite  near  the 
church  grounds,  sleighs,  with  foaming  horses  and  jing- 
ling bells,  went  flying  past,  forcing  the  poor  foot-farers 
to  take  to  the  snow  banks,  at  the  edge  of  the  road. 

Jan   now   carried   the   child.     He  was   continually 


36      THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

dodging  vehicles,  for  the  tramp  along  the  road  had  be- 
come very  difficult.  But  before  them  lay  the  shining 
temple;  if  they  could  only  get  to  it  they  would  be  shel- 
tered, and  safe  from  harm. 

Suddenly,  from  behind,  there  came  a  deafening  noise 
of  clanging  bells  and  clamping  hoofs.  A  huge  sledge, 
drawn  by  two  horses,  was  coming.  On  the  front  seat 
sat  a  young  gentleman,  in  a  fur  coat  and  a  high  fur 
cap,  and  his  young  wife.  The  gentleman  was  driving; 
behind  him  stood  his  coachman,  holding  a  burning  torch 
so  high  that  the  draft  blew  the  flame  backward,  leaving 
in  its  wake  a  long  trail  of  smoke  and  flying  sparks. 

Jan,  with  the  child  in  his  arms,  stood  at  the  edge  of 
the  snowbank.  All  at  once  his  foot  sank  deep  in  the 
snow,  and  he  came  near  falling.  Quickly  the  gentle- 
man in  the  sledge  drew  rein  and  shouted  to  the  peasant, 
whom  he  had  forced  from  the  road: 

"Hand  over  the  child  and  it  shall  ride  to  the  church 
with  us.  It's  risky  carrying  a  little  baby  when  there 
are  so  many  teams  out." 

"Much  obliged  to  you,"  said  Jan  Anderson,  "but 
I  can  get  along  all  right." 

"We'll  put  the  little  girl  between  us,  Jan,"  said  the 
young  wife. 


CHRISTMAS  MORN  37 

"Thanks,"  he  returned,  "but  you  needn*t  trouble 
yourselves ! " 

"So  you're  afraid  to  trust  us  with  the  child?'* 
laughed  the  man  in  the  sledge,  and  drove  on. 

The  foot-farers  trudged  along  under  ever-increasing 
difficulties.  Sledge  followed  sledge.  Every  horse  in 
the  parish  was  in  harness  that  Christmas  morning. 

"You  might  have  let  him  take  the  girl,"  said  Ka- 
trina.     "I'm  afraid  you'll  fall  with  her!" 

"What,  I  let  him  have  my  child?  What  are  you 
thinking  of,  woman!     Didn't  you  see  who  he  was?" 

"What  harm  would  there  have  been  in  letting  her 
ride  with  the  superintendent  of  the  ironworks  ? " 

Jan  Anderson  of  Rufiluck  stood  stockstill.  "Was 
that  the  superintendent  at  Doveness?"  he  said,  looking 
as  though  he  had  just  come  out  of  a  dream. 

"  Why  of  course !     Whom  did  you  suppose  it  was  ? " 

Yes,  where  had  Jan's  thoughts  been?  What  child 
had  he  been  carrying?  Where  had  he  intended  going? 
In  what  land  had  he  wandered  ?  He  stood  stroking  his 
forehead,  and  looked  rather  bewildered  when  he  an- 
swered Katrina. 

"I  thought  it  was  Herod,  King  of  Judea,  and  his  wife, 
Herodias,"  he  said. 


GLORY  GOLDIE'S  ILLNESS 

WHEN  the  little  girl  of  Ruffluck  was  three  years 
old  she  had  an  illness  which  must  have  been 
the  scarlet  fever,  for  her  little  body  was  red 
all  over  and  burning  hot  to  the  touch.  She  would  not 
eat,  nor  could  she  sleep;  she  just  lay  tossing  in  delirium. 
Jan  could  not  think  of  going  away  from  home  so  long 
as  she  was  sick.  He  stayed  in  the  hut  day  after  day, 
and  it  looked  as  though  Eric  of  Falla's  rye  would  go  un- 
threshed  that  year. 

It  was  Katrina  who  nursed  the  little  girl,  who  spread 
the  quilt  over  her  every  time  she  cast  it  off,  and  who 
fed  her  a  little  diluted  blueberry  cordial,  which  the 
housewife  at  Falla  had  sent  them.  When  the  little 
maid  was  well  Jan  always  looked  after  her;  but  as 
soon  as  she  became  ill  he  was  afraid  to  touch  her,  lest 
he  might  not  handle  her  carefully  enough  and  would 
only  hurt  her.  He  never  stirred  from  the  house,  but 
sat  in  a  corner  by  the  hearth  all  day,  his  eyes  fixed  on 
the  sick  child. 

38 


GLORY  GOLDIE'S  ILLNESS  39 

The  little  one  lay  in  her  own  crib  with  only  a  couple 
of  straw  pillows  under  her,  and  no  sheets.  It  must 
have  been  hard  on  the  delicate  little  body,  made  sensi- 
tive by  rash  and  inflammation,  to  lie  upon  the  coarse 
tow-cloth  pillow-casings. 

Strange  to  say,  every  time  the  child  began  to  toss 
on  the  bed  Jan  would  think  of  the  finest  thing  he  had 
to  his  name — his  Sunday  shirt. 

He  possessed  only  one  good  shirt,  which  was  of  smooth 
white  linen,  with  a  starched  front.  It  was  so  well  made 
that  it  would  have  been  quite  good  enough  for  the 
superintendent  at  Doveness.  And  Jan  was  very  proud 
of  that  shirt.  The  rest  of  his  wearing  apparel,  which 
was  in  constant  use,  was  as  coarse  as  were  the  pillow- 
casings  the  little  girl  lay  on. 

But  maybe  it  was  only  stupid  in  him  to  be  thinking 
of  that  shirt?  Katrina  would  never  in  the  world  let 
him  ruin  it,  for  she  had  given  it  to  him  as  a  wedding 
present. 

Anyhow,  Katrina  was  doing  all  she  could.  She  bor- 
rowed a  horse  from  Eric  of  Falla,  wrapped  the  little 
one  in  shawls  and  quilts  and  rode  to  the  doctor's  with 
her.  That  was  courageous  of  Katrina — though  Jan 
could  not  see  that  it  did  any  good.     Certainly  no  help 


40       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

came  out  of  the  big  medicine  bottle  she  brought  back 
with  her  from  the  apothecary's,  nor  from  any  of  the  doc- 
tor's other  prescriptions. 

Perhaps  he  would  not  be  allowed  to  keep  so  rare  a 
jewel  as  the  little  girl,  unless  he  was  ready  to  sacrifice 
for  her  the  best  that  he  had,  mused  he.  But  it  would 
not  be  easy  to  make  a  person  of  Katrina's  sort  under- 
stand this. 

Old  Finne-Karin  came  into  the  hut  one  day  while  the 
girl  lay  sick.  She  knew  how  to  cure  sickness  in  animals, 
as  do  all  persons  of  her  race,  and  she  was  not  so  bad, 
either,  at  conjuring  away  styes  and  boils  and  ring- 
worms; but  for  other  ailments  one  would  scarcely  think 
of  consulting  her.  It  was  hardly  the  thing  to  expect 
help  from  a  witch  doctor  for  anything  but  trifling 
complaints. 

The  moment  the  old  woman  stepped  into  the  room 
she  noticed  that  the  child  was  ill.  Katrina  informed 
her  that  it  had  the  scarlet  fever,  but  nobody  sought  her 
advice.  That  the  parents  were  anxious  and  troubled 
she  must  have  seen,  of  course,  for  as  soon  as  Katrina 
had  treated  her  to  coffee  and  Jan  had  given  her  a  piece 
of  plug-tobacco,  she  said,  entirely  of  her  own  accord: 

"This  sickness  is  beyond  my  healing  powers;  but 


GLORY  GOLDIE'S  ILLNESS  41 

this  much  Fm  able  to  tell  you;  you  can  find  out  whether 
it's  life  or  death.  Keep  awake  till  midnight,  then,  on 
the  stroke  of  twelve,  place  the  tip  of  the  forefinger  of 
your  left  hand  against  the  tip  of  the  little  finger,  eyelet- 
like, and  look  through  at  the  young  one.  Notice 
carefully  who  lies  beside  her  in  the  bed,  and  you'll 
know  what  to  expect." 

Katrina  thanked  her  kindly,  knowing  it  was  best  to 
keep  on  the  good  side  of  such  folk;  but  she  had  no  no- 
tion of  doing  as  she  had  been  told. 

Jan  attached  no  importance  to  the  advice,  either. 
He  thought  of  nothing  but  the  shirt.  But  how  would 
he  ever  be  able  to  muster  courage  enough  to  ask  Katrina 
if  he  might  tear  up  his  wedding  shirt?  That  the  little 
girl  would  not  get  any  better  on  that  account  he  under- 
stood, to  be  sure,  and  if  she  must  die  anyhow,  he  would 
just  be  throwing  it  away. 

Katrina  went  to  bed  that  evening  at  her  usual  hour, 
but  Jan  felt  too  troubled  to  sleep.  Seated  in  his  corner, 
he  could  see  how  Glory  Goldie  was  suflPering.  That 
which  she  had  under  her  was  too  rough  and  coarse. 
He  sat  thinking  how  nice  it  would  be  if  he  could  only 
make  up  a  bed  for  the  little  girl  that  would  feel  cool  and 
soft  and  smooth. 


42       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

His  shirt,  freshly  laundered  and  unused,  lay  in  the 
bureau  drawer.  It  hurt  him  to  think  of  its  being  there; 
at  the  same  time  he  felt  it  would  hardly  be  fair  to 
Katrina  to  use  her  gift  as  a  sheet  for  the  child. 

However,  as  it  drew  on  toward  midnight  and  Katrina 
was  sleeping  soundly,  he  went  over  to  the  bureau  and  took 
out  the  shirt.  First  he  tore  away  the  stiff  front,  then 
he  slit  the  shirt  into  two  parts,  whereupon  he  slipped 
one  piece  under  the  little  girl's  body,  and  spread  the 
other  one  between  the  child  and  the  heavy  quilt  that 
covered  her. 

That  done,  he  stole  back  to  his  comer  and  again 
took  up  his  vigil.  He  had  not  sat  there  long  when  the 
clock  struck  twelve.  Almost  without  thinking  of  what 
he  was  doing  he  put  the  two  fingers  of  his  left  hand  up 
to  his  eye,  ring  fashion,  and  peeped  through  at  the 
bed. 

And  lo,  at  the  edge  of  the  bed  sat  a  little  angel  of 
God !  It  was  all  scratched,  and  bleeding,  from  contact 
with  the  coarse  bedding,  and  was  about  to  go  away, 
when  it  turned  and  felt  of  the  fine  shirt,  running  its 
tiny  hands  over  the  smooth  white  linen.  Then,  in  a 
twinkling,  it  swung  its  legs  inside  the  edge  of  the  bed 
and  lay  down  again,  to  watch  over  the  child.    At  the 


GLORY  GOLDIE'S  ILLNESS  43 

same  time  up  one  of  the  bedposts  crawled  something 
black  and  hideous,  which  on  seeing  that  the  angel  of 
God  seemed  about  to  depart,  stuck  its  head  over  the 
bedside  and  grinned  with  glee,  thinking  it  could  creep 
inside  and  lie  down  in  the  angel's  place. 

But  when  it  saw  that  the  angel  of  God  still  guarded  the 
child,  it  began  to  writhe  as  if  suffering  the  torments  of 
hell,  and  shrank  back  toward  the  floor. 

The  next  day  the  little  girl  was  on  the  road  to  recov- 
ery. Katrina  was  so  glad  the  fever  was  broken  that 
she  had  not  the  heart  to  say  anything  about  the  spoiled 
wedding  shirt,  though  she  probably  thought  to  herself 
that  she  had  a  fool  of  a  husband. 


CALLING  ON  RELATIVES 

ONE  Sunday  afternoon  Jan  and  Glory  Goldie 
set  out  together  in  the  direction  of  the  big 
forest;  the  little  girl  was  then  in  her  fifth  year. 
Silent  and  serious,  father  and  little  daughter 
walked  hand  in  hand,  as  if  bent  upon  a  very 
solemn  mission.  They  went  past  the  shaded  birch 
grove,  their  favourite  haunt,  past  the  wild-strawberry 
hill  and  the  winding  brook,  without  stopping;  then, 
disappearing  in  an  easterly  direction,  they  went  into 
the  densest  part  of  the  forest;  nor  did  they  stop  there. 
Wherever  could  they  be  going?  By  and  by  they  came 
out  on  a  wooded  hill  above  Loby.  From  there  they 
went  down  to  the  scale-pan,  where  country-road  and 
town-road  cross.  They  did  not  go  to  Nasta  or  to  Nysta, 
and  never  even  glanced  toward  Dar  Fram  and  Pa  Valln, 
but  went  farther  and  farther  into  the  village.  No  one 
could  have  told  just  where  they  were  bound  for. 
Surely  they  could  not  be  thinking  of  calling  upon  the 
Hindricksons,  here  in  Loby.? 

44 


CALLING  ON  RELATIVES  45 

To  be  sure  Bjorn  Hindrickson's  wife  was  a  half- 
sister  of  Jan's  mother,  so  that  Jan  was  actually  related 
to  the  richest  people  in  the  parish,  and  he  had  a  right 
to  call  Hindrickson  and  his  wife  uncle  and  aunt.  But 
heretofore  he  had  never  claimed  kinship  with  these 
people.  Even  to  Katrina  he  had  barely  mentioned 
the  fact  that  he  had  such  high  connections.  Jan  would 
always  step  out  of  the  way  when  he  saw  Bjorn  Hindrick- 
son coming,  and  not  even  at  church  did  he  go  up  and 
shake  hands  with  him. 

But  now  that  Jan  had  such  a  remarkable  little 
daughter  he  was  something  more  than  just  a  poor 
labourer.  He  had  a  jewel  to  show  and  a  flower  with 
which  to  adorn  himself.  Therefore  he  was  as  rich  as 
the  richest,  as  great  as  the  greatest,  and  now  he  was  going 
straight  to  the  big  house  of  Bjorn  Hindrickson  to  pay 
his  respects  to  his  fine  relatives,  for  the  first  time  in 
his  life. 

The  visit  at  the  big  house  was  not  a  long  one.  In  less 
than  an  hour  after  their  arrival,  Jan  and  the  little  girl 
were  crossing  the  house-yard  toward  the  gate.  But 
at  the  gate  Jan  stopped  and  glanced  back,  as  if  half- 
minded  to  go  in  again. 


46       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

He  certainly  had  no  reason  to  regret  his  call.  Both 
he  and  the  child  had  been  well" received.  Bjom  Hin- 
drickson's  wife  had  taken  the  little  girl  over  to  the 
blue  cupboard,  and  given  her  a  cookie  and  a  lump  of 
sugar,  and  Bjom  Hindrickson  himself  had  asked  her 
name  and  her  age;  whereupon  he  had  opened  his  big 
leather  purse  and  presented  her  with  a  bright  new 
sixpence. 

Jan  had  been  served  with  coffee,  and  his  aunt  had 
asked  after  Katrina  and  had  wondered  whether  they 
kept  a  cow  or  a  pig,  and  if  their  hut  was  cold  in  winter 
and  if  the  wages  Jan  received  from  Eric  of  Falla  were 
sufficient  for  their  needs. 

No,  there  was  nothing  about  the  visit  itself  that 
troubled  Jan.  When  he  had  chatted  a  while  with  the 
Hindricksons  they  had  excused  themselves — which  was 
quite  proper — saying  they  were  invited  to  a  tea  that 
afternoon  and  would  be  leaving  in  half  an  hour.  Jan 
had  risen  at  once  and  said  good-bye,  knowing  they  must 
allow  themselves  time  to  dress.  Then  his  aunt  had 
gone  into  the  pantry  and  had  brought  out  butter  and 
bacon,  had  filled  a  little  bag  with  barley,  and  another 
with  flour,  and  had  tied  them  all  into  a  single  parcel, 
which  she  had  put  into  Jan's  hand  at  parting.     It  was 


CALLING  ON  RELATIVES  47 

just  a  little  something  for  Katrina,  she  had  said.  She 
should  have  some  recompense  for  staying  at  home  to 
look  after  the  house. 

It  was  this  parcel  Jan  stood  there  pondering  over. 
He  knew  that  in  the  bundle  were  all  sorts  of  good  things 
to  eat,  the  very  things  they  longed  for  at  every  meal  at 
Ruffluck,  still  he  felt  it  would  be  unfair  to  the  little  girl 
to  keep  it. 

He  had  not  come  to  the  Hindricksons  as  a  beggar, 
but  simply  to  see  his  kinsfolk.  He  did  not  wish  them 
to  entertain  any  false  notions  as  to  that.  This  thought 
had  come  to  him  instantly  the  parcel  was  handed  to  him, 
but  his  regard  for  the  Hindricksons  was  so  great  that 
he  would  not  have  dared  refuse  it. 

Now,  turning  back  from  the  gate,  he  walked  over  to 
the  barn  and  put  the  parcel  down  near  the  door,  where 
the  housefolk  constantly  passed  and  would  be  sure  to 
see  it. 

He  was  sorry  to  have  to  leave  it.  But  his  little  girl 
was  no  beggar!  Nobody  must  think  that  she  and  her 
father  went  about  asking  alms. 


THE  SCHOOL  EXAMINATION 

WHEN  the  little  girl  was  six  years  old  Jan 
went  along  with  her  to  the  Ostanby  school 
one  day,  to  listen  to  the  examinations. 

This  being  the  first  and  only  schoolhouse  the  parish 
boasted,  naturally  every  one  was  glad  that  at  last  a 
long-felt  want  had  been  met.  In  the  old  days  Sexton 
Blackie  had  no  choice  but  to  go  about  from  farmhouse 
to  farmhouse  with  his  pupils. 

Up  until  the  year  i860,  when  the  Ostanby  school  was 
built,  the  sexton  had  been  compelled  to  change  class- 
rooms every  other  week,  and  many  a  time  he  and  his 
little  pupils  had  sat  in  a  room  where  the  housewife 
prepared  meals  and  the  man  of  the  house  worked  at  a 
carpenter's  bench;  where  the  old  folk  lay  abed  all  day 
and  the  chickens  were  cooped  under  the  sofa. 

But  just  the  same  it  had  gone  rather  well  with  the 
teaching;  for  Sexton  Blackie  was  a  man  who  could 
command  respect  in  all  weathers.  Still  it  must  have 
been  a  relief  to  him  to  be  allowed  to  work  in  a  room  that 

48 


THE  SCHOOL  EXAMINATION  49 

was  to  be  used  only  for  school  purposes;  where  the  walls 
were  not  lined  with  cubby-beds  and  shelves  filled  with 
pots  and  pans  and  tools;  where  there  was  no  obstructing 
loom  in  front  of  the  window  to  shut  out  the  daylight, 
and  where  women  neighbours  could  not  drop  in  for  a 
friendly  chat  over  the  coffee  cups  during  school  hours. 

Here  the  walls  were  hung  with  illustrations  of  Bible 
stories,  with  animal  pictures  and  portraits  of  Swedish 
kings.  Here  the  children  had  little  desks  with  low 
benches,  and  did  not  have  to  sit  perched  up  round  a 
high  table,  where  their  noses  were  hardly  on  a  level  with 
the  edge.  And  here  Sexton  Blackie  had  a  desk  all  to 
himself,  with  spacious  drawers  and  compartments  for 
his  record-books  and  papers.  Now  he  looked  rather 
more  impressive  during  school  hours  than  in  former 
days,  when  he  had  often  heard  lessons  while  seated  upon 
the  edge  of  a  hearth,  with  a  roaring  fire  at  his  back  and 
the  children  huddled  on  the  floor  in  front  of  him. 
Here  he  had  a  fixed  place  for  the  blackboard  and  hooks 
for  maps  and  charts,  so  that  he  did  not  have  to  stand 
them  up  against  doors  and  sofa  backs.  He  knew,  too, 
where  he  had  his  goose  quills  and  could  teach  the  chil- 
dren how  to  make  strokes  and  curves,  so  that  each  one 
of  them  would  some  day  be  as  fine  a  penman  as  himself. 


so       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

It  was  even  possible  to  train  the  children  to  rise  in  a 
body  and  march  out  in  line,  like  soldiers.  Indeed, 
no  end  of  improvements  could  be  introduced  now  that 
the  schoolhouse  was  finished. 

Glad  as  was  every  one  of  the  new  school,  the  parents 
did  not  feel  altogether  at  ease  in  the  presence  of  their 
children,  after  they  had  begun  to  go  there.  It  was  as 
if  the  youngsters  had  come  into  something  new  and 
fine  from  which  their  elders  were  excluded.  Of  course 
it  was  wrong  of  the  parents  to  think  this,  when  they 
should  have  been  pleased  that  the  children  were  granted 
so  many  advantages  which  they  themselves  had  been 
denied. 

The  day  Jan  of  Ruffluck  visited  the  school,  he  and 
his  little  Glory  Goldie  walked  hand  in  hand,  as  usual, 
all  the  way,  like  good  friends  and  comrades;  but  as 
soon  as  they  came  in  sight  of  the  schoolhouse  and  Glory 
Goldie  saw  the  children  assembled  outside,  she  dropped 
her  father's  hand  and  crossed  to  the  other  side  of  the 
road.  Then,  in  a  moment,  she  ran  off  and  joined  a 
group  of  children. 

During  the  examination  Jan  sat  near  the  teacher's 
lectern,  up  among  the  School  Commissioners  and  other 
fine  folk.     He  had  to  sit  there;  otherwise  he  could  not 


THE  SCHOOL  EXAMINATION  51 

have  seen  anything  of  Glory  Goldie  but  the  back  of  her 
neck,  as  she  sat  in  the  front  row,  to  the  right  of  the 
lectern,  where  the  smaller  children  were  placed.  In 
the  old  days  Jan  would  never  have  gone  so  far  forward; 
but  one  who  was  father  to  a  little  girl  like  Glory  Goldie 
did  not  have  to  regard  himself  as  the  inferior  of  any- 
body. Glory  Goldie  could  not  have  helped  seeing  her 
father  from  where  she  sat,  yet  she  never  gave  him  a 
glance.  It  was  as  if  he  did  not  exist  for  her.  On  the 
other  hand.  Glory  Goldie's  gaze  was  fixed  upon  her 
teacher,  who  was  then  examining  the  older  pupils, 
on  the  left  side  of  the  room.  They  read  from  books, 
pointed  out  different  countries  and  cities  on  the  map, 
and  did  sums  on  the  blackboard,  and  the  teacher  had 
no  time  to  look  at  the  little  tots  on  the  right.  So  it 
would  not  have  mattered  very  much  if  Glory  Goldie 
had  sent  her  father  an  occasional  side-glance;  but  she 
never  so  much  as  turned  her  head  toward  him. 

However,  it  was  some  little  comfort  to  him  that  all 
the  other  children  did  likewise.  They,  too,  sat  the 
whole  time  with  their  clear  blue  eyes  fastened  on  their 
teacher.  The  little  imps  made  believe  they  understood 
him  when  he  said  something  witty  or  clever;  for  then 
they  would  nudge  each  other  and  giggle. 


52       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

No  doubt  it  was  a  surprise  to  the  parents  to  see  how 
well  the  children  conducted  themselves  throughout  the 
examination.  But  Sexton  Blackie  was  a  remarkable 
man.     He  could  make  them  do  almost  anything. 

As  for  Jan  of  Ruffluck,  he  was  beginning  to  feel  em- 
barrassed and  troubled.  He  no  longer  knew  whether 
it  was  his  own  little  girl  who  sat  there  or  somebody 
else's.  Of  a  sudden  he  left  his  place  among  the  School 
Commissioners  and  moved  nearer  the  door. 

At  last  the  teacher  was  done  examining  the  older 
pupils.  Now  came  the  turn  of  the  little  ones,  those 
who  had  barely  learnt  their  letters.  They  had  not 
acquired  any  vast  store  of  learning,  to  be  sure,  but  a 
few  questions  had  to  be  put  to  them,  also.  Besides, 
they  were  to  give  some  account  of  the  Story  of  the 
Creation. 

First  they  were  asked  to  tell  who  it  was  that  created 
the  world.  That  they  knew  of  course.  And  then, 
unhappily,  the  teacher  asked  them  if  they  knew  of  any 
other  name  for  God. 

Now  all  the  Httle  A-B-C-ers  were  stumped!  Their 
cheeks  grew  hot  and  the  skin  on  their  foreheads  was 
drawn  into  puckers,  but  they  could  not  for  the  life  of 
them  think  out  the  answer  to  such  a  profound  question. 


THE  SCHOOL  EXAMINATION  53 

Among  the  larger  children,  over  on  the  right,  there 
was  a  general  waving  of  hands,  and  whispering  and 
tittering;  but  the  eight  small  beginners  held  their 
mouths  shut  tight  and  not  a  sound  came  from  them. 
Glory  Goldie  was  as  mum  as  the  rest. 

"There  is  a  prayer  which  we  repeat  every  day,'*  said 
the  teacher.     "What  do  we  call  God  there ? " 

Now  Glory  Goldie  had  it!  She  knew  the  teacher 
wanted  them  to  say  they  called  God  Father — and  raised 
her  hand. 

"What  do  we  call  God,  Glory  Goldie?*'  he  asked. 

Glory  Goldie  jumped  to  her  feet,  her  cheeks  aflame, 
her  little  yellow  pigtail  of  a  braid  pointing  straight  out 
from  her  neck. 

"We  call  him  Jan,"  she  answered  in  a  high,  pene- 
trating voice. 

Immediately  a  laugh  went  up  from  all  parts  of  the 
room.  The  gentry,  the  School  Board,  parents  and 
children  all  chuckled.  Even  the  schoolmaster  ap- 
peared to  be  amused. 

Glory  Goldie  went  red  as  a  beet  and  her  eyes  filled  up. 
The  teacher  rapped  on  the  floor  with  the  end  of  his 
pointer  and  shouted  "Silence!"  Whereupon  he  said  a 
few  words  to  explain  the  matter. 


54       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

"It  was  Father  Glory  Goldie  wanted  to  say,  of  course, 
but  said  Jan  instead  because  her  own  father's  name 
is  Jan.  We  can't  wonder  at  the  little  girl,  for  I  hardly 
know  of  another  child  in  the  school  who  has  so  kind  a 
father  as  she  has.  I  have  seen  him  stand  outside  the 
schoolhouse  in  rain  and  bluster,  waiting  for  her,  and 
I've  seen  him  come  carrying  her  to  school  through 
blizzards,  when  the  snow  was  knee-deep  in  the  road. 
So  who  can  wonder  at  her  saying  Jan  when  she  must 
name  the  best  she  knows!" 

The  teacher  patted  the  little  girl  on  the  head.  The 
people  all  smiled,  but  at  the  same  time  they  were 
touched. 

Glory  Goldie  sat  looking  down,  not  knowing  what  she 
should  do  with  herself;  but  Jan  of  Ruffluck  felt  as  happy 
as  a  king,  for  it  had  suddenly  become  clear  to  him  that 
the  little  girl  had  been  his  the  whole  time. 


THE  CONTEST 

IT  WAS  strange  about  the  little  girl  of  Ruffluck  and 
her  father!  They  seemed  to  be  so  entirely  of  one 
mind  that  they  could  read  each  other's  thoughts. 

In  Svartsjo  lived  another  schoolmaster,  who  was 
an  old  soldier.  He  taught  in  an  out-of-the-way  comer 
of  the  parish  and  had  no  regular  schoolhouse,  as  had 
the  sexton;  but  he  was  greatly  beloved  by  all  children. 
The  youngsters  themselves  hardly  knew  they  went  to 
school  to  him,  butthought  they  came  together  justto  play. 

The  two  schoolmasters  were  the  best  of  friends.  But 
sometimes  the  younger  teacher  would  try  to  persuade 
the  older  one  to  keep  abreast  of  the  times,  and  wanted 
him  to  go  in  for  phonetics  and  other  innovations.  The 
old  soldier  generally  regarded  such  things  with  mild 
tolerance.     Once,  however,  he  lost  his  temper. 

"Just  because  you've  got  a  schoolhouse  you  think 
you  know  it  all,  Blackie!"  he  let  fly.  "But  I'll  have 
you  understand  that  my  children  know  quite  as  much 
as  yours,  even  if  they  do  have  only  farmhouses  to  sit  in.** 

55 


S6      THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

"Yes,  I  know,'*  returned  the  sexton,  "and  have  never 
said  anything  to  the  contrary.  I  simply  mean  that 
if  the  children  could  learn  a  thing  with  less  effort " 

"Well,  what  then?"  bristled  the  old  soldier. 

The  sexton  knew  from  the  old  man's  tone  that  he 
had  offended  him,  and  tried  to  smooth  over  the 
breach. 

"Anyhow  you  make  it  so  easy  for  your  pupils  that 
they  never  complain  about  their  lessons." 

"Maybe  I  make  it  too  easy  for  them?"  snapped  the 
old  man.  "Maybe  I  don't  teach  them  anything?" 
he  shouted,  striking  the  table  with  his  hand. 

"What  on  earth  has  come  over  you,  Tyberg?"  said 
the  sexton.     "You  seem  to  resent  everything  I  say." 

"Well,  you  always  come  at  me  with  so  many  allu- 
sions!" 

Just  then  other  people  happened  in,  and  soon  all  was 
smooth  between  the  schoolmasters;  when  they  parted 
company  they  were  as  good  friends  as  ever.  But  when 
old  man  Tyberg  was  on  his  way  home,  the  sexton's  re- 
marks kept  cropping  up  in  his  mind,  and  now  he  was 
even  angrier  than  before. 

"Why  should  that  strippling  say  I  could  teach  the 
children  more  if  I  kept  abreast  of  the  times?"  he  mut- 


THE  CONTEST  57 

tered  to  himself.  "He  probably  thinks  Fm  too  old, 
though  he  doesn't  say  it  in  plain  words/*  Tyberg 
could  not  get  over  his  exasperation,  and  as  soon  as  he 
reached  home  he  told  it  all  to  his  wife. 

"Why  should  you  mind  the  sexton's  chatter?"  said 
the  wife.  "*Youth  is  elastic,  but  age  is  solid,*  as  the 
saying  goes.     You're  excellent  teachers  both  of  you." 

"Little  good  your  saying  it!"  he  grunted.  "Others 
will  think  what  they  like  just  the  same." 

The  old  man  went  about  for  days  looking  so  glum 
that  he  quite  distressed  his  wife. 

"Can't  you  show  them  they  are  in  the  wrong?"  she 
finally  suggested. 

" How  show  them ?    What  do  you  mean?" 

"I  mean  that  if  you  know  your  pupils  to  be  just  as 
clever  as  the  sexton's " 

"Of  course  they  are!"  he  struck  in. 

" — then  you  must  see  that  your  pupils  and  his  get 
together  for  a  test  examination." 

The  old  man  pretended  not  to  be  interested  in  her 
proposition,  but  all  the  same  it  caught  his  fancy.  And 
some  days  later  the  sexton  received  a  letter  from  him 
wherein  he  proposed  that  the  children  of  both  schools  be 
allowed  to  test  their  respective  merits. 


58       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

The  sexton  was  not  averse  to  this,  of  course,  only  he 
wanted  to  have  the  contest  held  some  time  during  the 
Christmas  holidays,  so  that  it  could  be  made  a  festive 
occasion  for  the  children. 

"That  was  a  happy  conceit,**  thought  he.  "Now 
I  shan't  have  to  review  any  lessons  this  term.** 

Nor  was  it  necessary.  It  was  positively  amazing 
the  amount  of  reading  and  studying  that  went  on  just 
then  in  the  two  schools! 

The  contest  was  held  the  evening  of  the  day  after 
Christmas.  The  schoolroom  had  been  decorated  for 
the  occasion  with  spruce  trees,  on  which  shone  all  the 
church  candles  left  over  from  the  Christmas  Matins, 
and  there  were  apples  enough  to  give  every  child  two 
apiece.  It  was  whispered  about  that  the  parents  and 
guardians  who  had  come  to  listen  to  the  children  would 
be  served  with  coffee  and  cakes.  The  chief  attraction, 
however,  was  the  big  contest. 

On  one  side  of  the  room  sat  the  soldier*s  pupils,  on 
the  other  the  sexton's.  And  now  it  was  for  the  children 
to  defend  their  teachers*  reputations.  Schoolmaster 
Tyberg  had  to  examine  the  sexton's  pupils,  and  the 
sexton  the  Tyberg  pupils.     Any  questions  that  could 


THE  CONTEST  59 

not  be  answered  by  the  one  school  were  to  be  taken  up 
by  the  other.  Each  question  had  to  be  duly  recorded 
so  that  the  judges  would  be  able  to  decide  which  schopl 
was  the  better. 

The  sexton  opened  the  contest.  He  proceeded 
rather  cautiously  at  first,  but  when  he  found  that  he 
had  a  lot  of  clever  children  to  deal  with  he  went  at 
them  harder  and  harder.  The  Tyberg  pupils  were  so 
well  grounded  they  did  not  let  a  single  quizz  get  by 
them. 

Then  came  old  man  Tyberg's  turn  at  questioning 
the  sexton's  pupils. 

The  soldier  was  no  longer  angry  with  the  sexton. 
Now  that  his  children  had  shown  that  they  knew  their 
bits,  the  demon  of  mischief  flew  into  him.  At  the  start 
he  put  a  few  straight  questions  to  the  sexton's  pupils, 
but  being  unable  to  remain  serious  for  long  at  a  time 
he  soon  became  as  waggish  as  he  usually  was  at  his  own 
school. 

"Of  course  I  know  that  you  have  read  a  deal  more 
than  have  we  who  come  from  the  backwoods,"  said  he. 
"You  have  studied  natural  science  and  much  else,  still 
I  wonder  if  any  of  you  can  tell  me  what  the  stones  in 
Motala  Stream  are?'* 


6o       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

Not  one  of  the  sexton's  pupils  raised  a  hand,  but  on 
the  other  side  hand  after  hand  shot  up. 

Yet,  in  the  sexton's  division  sat  Olof  Oleson — he 
who  knew  he  had  the  best  head  in  the  parish,  and  Dar 
Nol,  of  good  old  peasant  stock.  But  they  could  not 
answer.  There  was  Karin  Svens,  the  sprightly  lass  of 
a  soldier's  daughter,  who  had  not  missed  a  day  at  school. 
She,  with  the  others,  wondered  why  the  sexton  had  not 
told  them  what  there  was  remarkable  about  the  stones 
in  Motala  Stream. 

Schoolmaster  Tyberg  stood  looking  very  grave  while 
Schoolmaster  Blackie  sat  gazing  at  the  floor,  much 
perturbed. 

"I  don't  see  but  that  we'll  have  to  let  this  question 
go  to  the  opposition,"  said  the  soldier-teacher.  **  Fancy, 
so  many  bright  boys  and  girls  not  being  able  to  answer 
an  easy  question  like  that!" 

At  the  last  moment  Glory  Goldie  turned  and  looked 
back  at  her  father,  as  was  her  habit  when  not  knowing 
what  else  to  do. 

Jan  was  too  far  away  to  whisper  the  answer  to  her; 
but  the  instant  the  child  caught  her  father's  eye 
she  knew  what  she  must  say.  Then,  in  her  eagerness, 
she  not  only  raised  her  hand,  but  stood  up. 


THE  CONTEST  6i 

Her  schoolmates  all  turned  to  her,  expectantly,  and 
the  sexton  looked  pleased  because  the  question  would 
not  be  taken  away  from  his  children. 

"They  are  wet!"  shouted  Glory  Goldie  without  wait- 
ing for  the  question  to  be  put  to  her,  for  the  time  was  up. 

The  next  second  the  little  girl  feared  she  had  said 
something  very  stupid  and  spoiled  the  thing  for  them 
all.  She  sank  down  on  the  bench  and  hid  her  face 
under  the  desk,  so  that  no  one  should  see  her. 

"Well  answered,  my  girl!"  said  the  soldier-teacher. 
"It's  lucky  for  you  sexton  pupils  there  was  one  among 
you  could  reply;  for,  with  all  your  cock-sureness,  you 
were  about  to  lose  the  game." 

And  such  peals  of  laughter  as  went  up  from  the  chil- 
dren of  both  schools  and  from  the  grown  folk  as  well, 
the  two  schoolmasters  had  never  heard.  Some  of  the 
youngsters  had  to  stand  up  to  have  their  laugh  out, 
while  others  doubled  in  their  seats,  and  shrieked.  That 
put  an  end  to  all  order. 

"Now  I  think  we'd  better  remove  the  benches  and 
take  a  swing  round  the  Christmas  trees,"  said  old  man 
Tyberg. 

And  never  before  had  they  had  such  fun  in  the  school- 
house,  and  never  since,  either. 


FISHING 

IT  WOULD  hardly  have  been  possible  for  any  one  to 
be  as  fond  of  the  little  girl  as  her  father  was;  but 
it  may  be  truly  said  that  she  had  a  very  good  friend 
in  old  seine-maker  Ola. 

This  is  the  way  they  came  to  be  friends:  Glory  Goldie 
had  taken  to  setting  out  fishing-poles  in  the  brook  for 
the  small  salmon-trout  that  abounded  there.  She  had 
better  luck  with  her  fishing  than  any  one  would  have 
expected,  and  the  very  first  day  she  brought  home  a 
couple  of  spindly  fishes. 

She  was  elated  over  her  success,  as  can  be'  imagined, 
and  received  praise  from  her  mother  for  being  able  to 
provide  food  for  the  family,  when  she  was  only  a  little 
girl  of  eight.  To  encourage  the  child,  Katrina  let  her 
cleanse  and  fry  the  fish.  Jan  ate  of  it  and  declared 
he  had  never  tasted  the  like  of  that  fish,  which  was  the 
plain  truth.  For  the  fish  was  so  bony  and  dry  and 
burnt  that  the  little  girl  herself  could  scarcely  swallow  a 
morsel  of  it. 

62 


FISHING  63 

But  for  all  that  the  little  girl  was  just  as  enthusiastic 
over  her  fishing.  She  got  up  every  morning  at  the 
same  time  that  Jan  did  and  hurried  off  to  the  brook,  a 
basket  on  her  arm,  and  carrying  in  a  little  tin  box  the 
worms  to  bait  her  hooks.  Thus  equipped,  she  went  off 
to  the  brook,  which  came  gushing  down  the  rocky  steep 
in  numerous  falls  and  rapids,  between  which  were  short 
stretches  of  dark  still  water  and  places  where  the  stream 
ran,  clear  and  transparent,  over  a  bed  of  sand  and 
smooth  stones. 

Think  of  it!  After  the  first  week  she  had  no  luck 
with  the  fishing.  The  worms  were  gone  from  all  the 
hooks,  but  no  fish  had  fastened  there.  She  shifted 
her  tackle  from  rapid  to  still  water,  from  still  water 
to  rippling  falls,  and  she  changed  her  hooks — but  with 
no  better  results. 

She  asked  the  boys  at  Borje's  and  at  Eric's  if  they 
were  not  the  ones  who  got  up  with  the  lark  and  carried 
off  her  fish.  But  a  question  like  that  the  boys  would 
not  deign  to  answer.  For  no  boy  would  stoop  to  take 
fish  from  the  brook,  when  he  had  the  whole  of  Dove 
Lake  to  fish  in.  It  was  all  right  for  little  girls,  who  were 
not  allowed  to  go  down  to  the  lake,  to  run  about  hunt- 
ing fish  in  the  woods,  they  said. 


64      THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

Despite  the  superior  airs  of  the  boys,  the  little  girl 
only  half-believed  them.  "Surely  some  one  must  take 
the  fish  off  my  hooks ! "  she  said  to  herself.  Hers  were 
real  hooks,  too,  and  not  just  bent  pins.  And  in  order  to 
satisfy  herself  she  arose  one  morning  before  Jan  or 
Katrina  were  awake,  and  ran  over  to  the  brook.  When 
near  to  the  stream  she  slackened  her  pace,  taking  very 
short  cautious  steps  so  as  not  to  slip  on  the  stones  or  to 
rustle  the  bushes.  Then,  all  at  once  her,  whole  body 
became  numb.  For  at  the  edge  of  the  brook,  on 
the  very  spot  where  she  had  set  out  her  poles  the 
morning  before,  stood  a  fish  thief  tampering  with  her 
lines.  It  was  not  one  of  the  boys,  as  she  had  supposed, 
but  a  grown  man,  who  was  just  then  bending  over  the 
water,  drawing  up  a  fish. 

Little  Glory  Goldie  was  never  afraid.  She  rushed 
right  up  to  the  thief  and  caught  him  in  the  act. 

"So  you're  the  one  who  comes  here  and  takes  my 
fish!"  she  said.  "It's  a  good  thing  I've  run  across  you 
at  last  so  we  can  put  a  stop  to  this  stealing." 

The  man  then  raised  his  head,  and  now  Glory  Goldie 
saw  his  face.  It  was  the  old  seine-maker,  who  was  one 
of  their  neighbours. 

"Yes,  I  know  this  is  your  tackle,"  the  man  admitted. 


FISHING  6s 

without  getting  angry  or  excited,  as  most  folks  do  when 
taken  to  task  for  wrongdoing. 

"But  how  can  you  take  what  Isn*t  yours?"  asked  the 
puzzled  youngster. 

The  man  looked  straight  at  her;  she  never  forgot  that 
look;  she  seemed  to  be  peering  Into  two  open  and  empty 
caverns  at  the  back  of  which  were  a  pair  of  half-dead 
eyes,  beyond  reflecting  either  joy  or  grief. 

"Well,  you  see,  I'm  aware  that  you  get  what  you 
require  from  your  parents  and  that  you  fish  only  for 
the  fun  of  it,  while  at  my  home  we  are  starving.'* 

The  little  girl  flushed.     Now  she  felt  ashamed. 

The  seine-maker  said  nothing  further,  but  picked  up 
his  cap  (it  had  dropped  from  his  head  while  he  was 
bending  over  the  fishing-poles)  and  went  his  way.  Nor 
did  Glory  Goldie  speak.  A  couple  of  fish  lay  floundering 
on  the  ground,  but  she  did  not  take  them  up;  when  she 
had  stood  a  while  looking  at  them,  she  kicked  them  back 
into  the  water. 

All  that  day  the  little  girl  felt  displeased  with  herself, 
without  knowing  why.  For  indeed  it  was  not  she  who 
had  done  wrong.  She  could  not  get  the  seine-maker 
out  of  her  thoughts.  The  old  man  was  said  to  have 
been  rich  at  one  time;  he  had  once  owned  seven  big 


(^       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

farmsteads,  each  in  itself  worth  as  much  as  Eric  of 
Falla's  farm.  But  in  some  unaccountable  way  he  had 
disposed  of  his  property  and  was  now  quite  penniless. 

However,  the  next  morning  Glory  Goldie  went  over 
to  the  brook  the  same  as  usual.  This  time  no  one  had 
touched  her  hooks,  for  now  there  was  a  fish  at  the  end 
of  every  line.  She  released  the  fishes  from  the  hooks 
and  laid  them  in  her  basket;  but  instead  of  going  home 
with  her  catch  she  went  straight  to  the  seine-makpr's 
cabin. 

When  the  little  girl  came  along  with  her  basket  the 
old  man  was  out  in  the  yard,  cutting  wood.  She  stood 
at  the  stile  a  moment,  watching  him,  before  stepping 
over.  He  looked  pitifully  poor  and  ragged.  Even  her 
father  had  never  appeared  so  shabby. 

The  little  girl  had  heard  that  some  well-do-to  people 
had  offered  the  seine-maker  a  home  for  life,  but  in 
preference  he  had  gone  to  live  with  his  daughter-in-law, 
who  made  her  home  here  in  the  Ashdales,  so  as  to  help 
her  in  any  way  that  he  could;  she  had  many  children, 
and  her  husband,  who  had  deserted  her,  was  now  sup- 
posed to  be  dead. 

"To-day  there  was  fish  on  the  hooks!"  shouted  the 
little  girl  from  the  stile. 


FISHING  67 

"You  don't  tell  me!"  said  the  seine-maker.  "But 
that  was  well." 

"I'll  gladly  give  you  all  the  fish  I  catch,"  she  told 
him,  "if  I'm  only  allowed  to  do  the  fishing  myself." 
So  saying,  she  went  up  to  the  seine-maker  and  emptied 
the  contents  of  her  basket  on  the  ground,  expecting 
of  course  that  he  would  be  pleased  and  would  praise  her, 
just  as  her  father — who  was  always  pleased  with  every- 
thing she  said  or  did — had  always  done.  But  the  seine- 
maker  took  this  attention  with  his  usual  calm  indif- 
ference. 

"You  keep  what's  yours,"  he  said.  "We're  so  used 
to  going  hungry  here  that  we  can  get  on  without  your 
few  little  fishes." 

There  was  something  out  of  the  common  about  this 
poor  old  man  and  Glory  Goldie  was  anxious  to  win  his 
approval. 

"You  may  take  the  fish  off  and  stick  the  worms  on  the 
hooks,  if  you  like,"  said  she,  "  and  you  can  have  all  the 
tackle  and  everything." 

"Thanks,"  returned  the  old  man.  "But  I'll  not 
deprive  you  of  your  pleasure." 

Glory  Goldie  was  determined  not  to  go  until  she  had 
thought  out  a  way  of  satisfying  him. 


68       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

**  Would  you  like  me  to  come  and  call  for  you  every 
morning,"  she  asked  him,  "so  that  we  could  draw  up 
the  lines  together  and  divide  the  catch — ^you  to  get 
half,  and  I  half?" 

Then  the  old  man  stopped  chopping  and  rested  on  his 
axe.  He  turned  his  strange,  half-dead  eyes  toward  the 
child,  and  the  shadow  of  a  smile  crossed  his  face. 

"Ah,  now  you  put  out  the  right  bait!"  he  said. 
"That  proposition  I'll  not  say  no  to." 


AGRIPPA 

THE  little  girl  was  certainly  a  marvel !  When  she 
was  only  ten  years  old  she  could  manage  even 
Agrippa  Prastberg,  the  sight  of  whom  was 
enough  to  scare  almost  any  one  out  of  his  wits. 

Agrippa  had  yellow  red-lidded  eyes,  topped  with 
bushy  eyebrows,  a  frightful  nose,  and  a  wiry  beard 
that  stood  out  from  his  face  like  raised  bristles.  His 
forehead  was  covered  with  deep  wrinkles  and  his  figure 
was  tall  and  ungainly.  He  always  wore  a  ragged  mili- 
tary cap. 

One  day  when  the  little  girl  sat  all  by  herself  on  the 
Hat  stone  in  front  of  the  hut,  eating  her  evening  meal 
of  buttered  bread,  she  espied  a  tall  man  coming  down 
the  lane  whom  she  soon  recognized  as  Agrippa  Prast- 
berg. However,  she  kept  her  wits  about  her,  and  at 
once  broke  and  doubled  her  slice  of  bread — buttered 
side  in — then  slipped  it  under  her  apron. 

She  did  not  attempt  to  run  away  or  to  lock  up  the 
house,  knowing  that  that   would  be   useless  with  a 

69 


70      THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

man  of  his  sort;  but  kept  her  seat.  All  she  did  was  to 
pick  up  an  unfinished  stocking  Katrina  had  left  lying 
on  the  stone  when  starting  out  with  Jan's  supper  a 
while  ago,  and  go  to  knitting  for  dear  life. 

She  sat  there  as  if  quite  calm  and  content,  but  with 
one  eye  on  the  gate.     No,  indeed,  there  was  not  a  doubt 

about  it Agrippa  intended  to  pay  them  a  visit,  for 

just  then  he  lifted  the  gate  latch. 

The  little  girl  moved  farther  back  on  the  stone  and 
spread  out  her  skirt.  She  saw  now  that  she  would 
have  to  guard  the  house. 

Glory  Goldie  knew,  to  be  sure,  that  Agrippa  Prast- 
berg  was  not  the  kind  of  man  who  would  steal,  and  he 
never  struck  any  one  unless  they  called  him  Grippie, 
or  offered  him  buttered  bread,  nor  did  he  stop  long  at  a 
place  where  folk  had  the  good  luck  not  to  have  a  Darle- 
carlian  clock  in  the  house. 

Agrippa  went  about  in  the  parish  "doctoring" 
clocks,  and  once  he  set  foot  in  a  house  where  there  was  a 
tall,  old-fashioned  chimney  clock  he  could  not  rest 
until  he  had  removed  the  works,  to  see  if  there  was  any- 
thing wrong  with  them.  And  he  never  failed  to  find 
flaws  which  necessitated  his  taking  the  whole  clock 
apart.     That  meant  he  would  be  days  putting  it  to- 


AGRIPPA  71 

gether  again.  Meantime,  one  had  to  house  and  feed 
him. 

The  worst  of  it  was  that  if  Agrippa  once  got  his  hands 
on  a  clock  it  would  never  run  as  well  as  before,  and 
afterward  one  had  to  let  him  tinker  it  at  least  once  a 
year,  or  it  would  stop  going  altogether.  The  old  man 
tried  to  do  honest  and  conscientious  work,  but  just  the 
same  he  ruined  all  the  clocks  he  touched. 

Therefore  it  was  best  never  to  let  him  fool  with  one*s 
clock.  That  Glory  Goldie  knew,  of  course,  but  she 
saw  no  way  of  saving  the  Dalecarlian  timepiece,  which 
was  ticking  away  inside  the  hut. 

Agrippa  knew  of  the  clock  being  there  and  had  long 
watched  for  an  opportunity  to  get  at  it,  but  at  other 
times  when  he  was  seen  thereabout,  Katrina  had  been 
at  home  to  keep  him  at  a  safe  distance. 

When  the  old  man  came  up  he  stopped  right  in  front 
of  the  little  girl,  struck  the  ground  with  his  stick,  and 
rattled  off: 

"Here  comes  Johan  Utter  Agrippa  Prastberg, 
drummer-boy  to  His  Royal  Highness  and  the  Crown! 
I  have  faced  shot  and  shell  and  fear  neither  angels  nor 
devils.     Anybody  home?" 

Glory  Goldie  did  not  have  to  reply,  for  he  strode 


72       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

past  her  into  the  house  and  went  straight  over  to  the 
big  Dalecarlian  clock. 

The  girl  ran  in  after  him  and  tried  to  tell  him  what  a 
good  clock  it  was,  that  it  ran  neither  too  fast  nor  too 
slow  and  needed  no  mending. 

"How  can  a  clock  run  well  that  has  not  been  regu- 
lated by  Johan  Utter  Agrippa  Prastberg!"  the  old 
man  roared. 

He  was  so  tall  he  could  open  the  clock-case  without 
having  to  stand  on  a  chair.  In  a  twinkling  he  removed  the 
face  and  the  works  and  placed  them  on  the  table.  Glory 
Goldie  clenched  the  hand  under  her  apron,  and  tears 
came  to  her  eyes;  but  what  could  she  do  to  stop  him? 

Agrippa  was  in  a  fever  of  a  hurry  to  find  out  what 
ailed  the  clock,  before  Jan  or  Katrina  could  get  back 
and  tell  him  it  needed  no  repairing.  He  had  brought 
with  him  a  small  bundle,  containing  work-tools  and 
grease  jars,  which  he  tore  open  with  such  haste  that 
half  its  contents  fell  to  the  floor. 

Glory  Goldie  was  told  to  pick  up  everything  that 
had  dropped.  And  any  one  who  has  seen  Agrippa 
Prastberg  must  know  she  would  not  have  dared  do 
anything  but  obey  him.  She  got  down  on  all  fours 
and  handed  him  a  tiny  saw  and  a  mallet. 


AGRIPPA  73 

"Anything  more!"  he  bellowed.  "Be  glad  you're 
allowed  to  serve  His  Majesty's  and  the  Kingdom's 
drummer-boy,  you  confounded  crofter-brat!" 

"No,  not  that  I  see,"  replied  the  little  girl  meekly. 
Never  had  she  felt  so  crushed  and  unhappy.  She  was 
to  look  after  the  house  for  her  mother  and  father,  and 
now  this  had  to  happen! 

"But  the  spectacles.?"  snapped  Agrippa.  "They 
must  have  dropped,  too.?" 

"No,"  said  the  girl,  "there  are  no  spectacles  here." 
Suddenly  a  faint  hope  sprang  up  in  her.  What  if  he 
couldn't  do  anything  to  the  clock  without  his  glasses? 
What  if  they  should  be  lost.?  And  just  then  her  eye  lit 
on  the  spectacle-case,  behind  a  leg  of  the  table. 

The  old  man  rummaged  and  searched  among  the 
cog-wheels  and  springs  in  his  bundle.  "I  don't  see 
but  I'll  have  to  get  down  on  the  floor  myself,  and  hunt," 
he  said  presently.     " Get  up,  crofter-brat ! " 

Quick  as  a  flash  the  little  girl's  hand  shot  out  and  closed 
over  the  spectacle-case,  which  she  hid  under  her  apron. 

"Up  with  you!"  thundered  Agrippa.  "I  believe 
you're  lying  to  me.  What  are  you  hiding  under  your 
apron?    Come!    Out  with  it!" 

She  promptly  drew  out  one  hand.    The  other  hand  she 


74       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

had  kept  under  her  apron  the  whole  time.  Now  she  had 
to  show  that  one,  too.    Then  he  saw  the  buttered  bread. 

"Ugh!  It's  buttered  bread! "  Agrippa  shrank  back 
as  if  the  girl  were  holding  out  a  rattlesnake. 

**I  sat  eating  it  when  you  came,  and  then  I  put  it 
out  of  sight  for,  I  know  you  don't  like  butter." 

The  old  man  got  down  on  his  hands  and  knees  and 
began  to  search,  but  to  no  purpose,  of  course. 

"You  must  have  left  them  where  you  were  last," 
said  Glory  Goldie. 

He  had  wondered  about  that  himself,  though  he 
thought  it  unlikely.  At  all  events  he  could  do  nothing  to 
the  clock  without  his  glasses.  He  had  no  choice  but  to 
gather  up  his  tools  and  replace  the  works  in  the  clock-case. 

While  his  back  was  turned  the  little  girl  slipped  the 
spectacles  into  his  bundle,  where  he  found  them  when 
he  got  to  Lovdala  Manor — the  last  place  he  had  been 
to  before  coming  to  Ruffluck  Croft.  On  opening  the 
bundle  to  show  they  were  not  there,  the  first  object 
that  caught  his  eye  was  the  spectacle-case. 

Next  time  he  saw  Jan  and  Katrina  in  the  pine  grove 
outside  the  church,  he  went  up  to  them. 

"That  girl  of  yours,  that  handy  little  girl  of  yours 
is  going  to  be  a  comfort  to  you,"  he  told  them. 


FORBIDDEN  FRUIT 

THERE  were  many  who  said  to  Jan  of  Ruffluck 
that  his  little  girl  would  be  a  comfort  to  him 
when  she  was  grown.  Folks  did  not  seem  to 
understand  that  she  already  made  him  happy  every 
day  and  every  hour  that  God  granted  them.  Only 
once  in  the  whole  time  of  her  growing  period  did  Jan 
have  to  suffer  any  annoyance  or  humiliation  on  her 
account. 

The  summer  the  little  girl  was  eleven  her  father  took 
her  to  Lovdala  Manor  on  the  seventeenth  of  August, 
which  was  the  birthday  of  the  lord  of  the  manor, 
Lieutenant  Liljecrona. 

The  seventeenth  of  August  was  always  a  day  of  re- 
joicing that  was  looked  forward  to  all  the  year  by  every 
one  in  Svartsjo  and  in  Bro,  not  only  by  the  gentry, 
who  participated  in  all  the  festivities,  but  also  by  the 
young  folk  of  the  peasantry,  who  came  in  crowds  to 
Lovdala  to  look  at  the  smartly  dressed  people  and  to  lis- 
ten to  the  singing  and  the  dance  music. 

75 


*j(>       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

There  was  something  else,  too,  that  attracted  the 
young  people  to  Lovdala  on  the  seventeenth  of  August, 
and  that  was  all  the  fruit  that  was  to  be  found  in  the 
orchard  at  that  time.  To  be  sure,  the  children  had 
been  taught  strict  honesty  in  most  matters,  but  when 
it  came  to  a  question  of  such  things  as  hang  on  bushes 
and  trees,  out  in  the  open,  they  felt  at  liberty  to  take 
as  much  as  they  wanted,  just  so  they  were  careful  not 
to  be  caught  at  it. 

When  Jan  came  into  the  orchard  with  his  Glory 
Goldie  he  noticed  how  the  little  girl  opened  her  eyes 
when  she  saw  all  the  fine  apple  trees,  laden  with  big 
round  greenings.  And  Jan  would  not  have  denied 
her  the  pleasure  of  tasting  of  the  fruit  had  he  not 
seen  Superintendent  Soderlind  and  two  other  men 
walking  about  in  the  orchard,  on  the  lookout  for  tres- 
passers. 

He  hurried  Glory  Goldie  over  to  the  lawn  in  front  of 
the  manor-house,  out  of  temptation's  way.  It  was 
plain  that  her  thoughts  were  still  on  the  apple  trees  and 
the  gooseberry  bushes,  for  she  never  even  glanced  at 
the  prettily  dressed  children  of  the  upper  class  or  at 
the  beautiful  flowers.  Jan  could  not  get  her  to  listen 
to  the  fine  speeches  delivered  by  the  Dean  of  Bro  and 


FORBIDDEN  FRUIT  77 

Engineer  Boraeus  of  Borg,  in  honour  of  the  day.  Why 
she  would  not  even  listen  to  Sexton  Blackie's  congrat- 
ulatory poem! 

Anders  Oster*s  clarinet  could  be  heard  from  the  house. 
It  was  playing  such  lively  dance  music  just  then  that 
folks  were  hardly  able  to  hold  themselves  still,  but  the 
little  girl  only  tried  to  find  a  pretext  for  getting  back  to 
the  orchard. 

Jan  kept  a  firm  grip  on  her  hand  all  the  while  and  no 
matter  what  excuse  she  would  hit  upon  to  break  away, 
he  never  relaxed  his  hold.  Everything  went  smoothly 
for  him  until  evening,  when  dusk  fell. 

Then  coloured  lanterns  were  brought  out  and  set  in 
the  flower  beds  and  hung  in  the  trees  and  in  among  the 
clinging  ivy  that  covered  the  house  wall.  It  was  such 
a  pretty  sight  that  Jan,  who  had  never  before  seen  any- 
thing of  that  kind,  quite  lost  his  head  and  hardly  knew 
whether  he  was  still  on  earth;  but  just  the  same  he  did 
not  let  go  of  the  little  hand. 

When  the  lanterns  had  been  lighted,  Anders  Oster 
and  his  nephew  and  the  village  shopkeeper  and  his 
brother-in-law  struck  up  a  song.  While  they  sang  the 
air  seemed  to  vibrate  with  a  strange  sort  of  rapture  that 
took  away  all  sadness  and  depression.     It  came  so 


78       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

softly  and  caressingly  on  the  balmy  night  air  that  Jan 
just  gave  up  to  it,  as  did  every  one  else.  All  were 
glad  to  be  alive;  glad  they  had  so  beautiful  a  world  to 
live  in. 

"This  must  be  the  way  folks  feel  who  live  in  Para- 
dise," said  a  youth,  looking  very  solemn. 

After  the  singing  there  were  fireworks,  and  when  the 
rockets  went  up  into  the  indigo  night-sky  and  broke 
into  showers  of  red,  blue,  and  yellow  stars,  Jan  was  so 
carried  away  that  for  the  moment  he  forgot  about 
Glory  Goldie.  When  he  came  back  to  himself  she 
was  gone. 

"It  can't  be  helped  now,"  thought  Jan.  "I  only 
hope  all  will  go  well  with  her,  as  usual,  and  that  Super- 
intendent Soderlind  or  any  of  the  other  watchers  won't 
lay  hands  on  her." 

It  would  have  been  futile  for  Jan  to  try  to  find  her 
out  in  the  big,  dark  orchard:  he  knew  that  the  sensible 
thing  for  him  to  do  was  to  remain  where  he  was,  and 
wait  for  her.  And  he  did  not  have  to  wait  very  long! 
There  was  one  more  song;  the  last  strains  had  hardly 
died  away  when  he  saw  Superintendent  Soderlind  come 
up,  with  Glory  Goldie  in  his  arms. 

Lieutenant    Liljecrona   was  standing  with   a   little 


FORBIDDEN  FRUIT  79 

group  of  gentlemen  at  the  top  of  the  steps,  listening 
to  the  singing,  when  Superintendent  Soderlind  stopped 
in  front  of  him  and  set  the  little  girl  down  on  the 
ground. 

Glory  Goldie  did  not  scream  or  try  to  run  away. 
She  had  picked  her  apron  full  of  apples  and  thought 
of  nothing  save  to  hold  it  up  securely,  so  that  none  of 
the  apples  would  roll  out. 

"This  youngster  has  been  up  in  an  apple  tree,"  said 
Superintendent  Soderlind,  "and  your  orders  were  that 
if  I  caught  any  apple  thieves  I  was  to  bring  them  to 
you." 

Lieutenant  Liljecrona  glanced  down  at  the  little  girl, 
and  the  fine  wrinkles  round  his  eyes  began  to  twitch. 
It  was  impossible  to  tell  whether  he  was  going  to  laugh 
or  cry  in  a  second.  He  had  intended  to  administer  a 
sharp  reprimand  to  the  one  who  had  stolen  his  apples. 
But  now  when  he  saw  the  little  girl  tighten  her  hands 
round  her  apron,  he  felt  sorry  for  her.  Only  he  was 
puzzled  to  know  how  he  should  manage  this  thing  so 
that  she  could  keep  her  apples;  for  if  he  were  to  let  her 
off  without  further  ado,  it  might  result  in  his  having 
his  whole  orchard  stripped. 

"So  you've  been  up  in  the  apple  trees,  have  you?** 


8o      THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

said  the  lieutenant.  "You  have  gone  to  school  and 
read  about  Adam  and  Eve,  so  you  ought  to  know  how 
dangerous  it  is  to  steal  apples." 

At  that  moment  Jan  came  forward  and  placed  him- 
self beside  his  daughter;  he  felt  quite  put  out  with  her 
for  having  spoiled  his  pleasure,  but  of  course  he  had 
to  stand  by  her. 

"Don't  do  anything  to  the  little  girl,  Lieutenant!" 
he  said.  "  For  it  was  I  who  gave  her  leave  to  climb  the 
tree  for  the  apples." 

Glory  Goldie  sent  her  father  a  withering  glance,  and 
broke  her  silence.  "That  isn't  true,"  she  declared. 
"I  wanted  the  apples.  Father  has  been  standing  here 
the  whole  evening  holding  onto  my  hand  so  I  shouldn't 
go  pick  any." 

Now  the  lieutenant  was  tickled.  "Good  for  you, 
my  girl!"  said  he.  "You  did  right  in  not  letting  your 
father  shoulder  the  blame.  I  suppose  you  know  that 
when  Our  Lord  was  so  angry  at  Adam  and  Eve  it 
wasn't  because  they  had  stolen  an  apple,  but  because 
they  were  cowards  and  tried  to  shift  the  blame,  the  one 
onto  the  other.  You  may  go  now,  and  you  can  keep  your 
apples  because  you  were  not  afraid  to  tell  the  truth.'* 

With  that  he  turned  to  one  of  his  sons,  and  said: 


FORBIDDEN  FRUIT  8i 

"Give  Jan  a  glass  of  punch.  We  must  drink  to 
him  because  his  girl  spoke  up  for  herself  better  than 
old  Mother  Eve,  It  would  have  been  well  for  us  all  if 
Glory  Goldie  had  been  in  the  Garden  of  Eden  instead  of 
Eve." 


BOOK  TWO 


LARS  GUNNARSON 

ONE  cold  winter  day  Eric  of  Falla  and  Jan  were 
up  in  the  forest  cutting  down  trees.  They  had 
just  sawed  through  the  trunk  of  a  big  spruce, 
and  stepped  aside  so  as  not  to  be  caught  under  its 
branches  when  it  came  crashing  to  the  ground. 

"Lx)ok  out,  Boss!"  warned  Jan.  "It's  coming  your 
way." 

There  was  plenty  of  time  for  Eric  to  have  escaped 
while  the  spruce  still  swayed;  but  he  had  felled  so  many 
trees  in  his  lifetime  that  he  thought  he  ought  to  know 
more  about  this  than  Jan  did,  and  stood  still.  The  next 
moment  he  lay  upon  the  ground  with  the  tree  on  top 
of  him.  He  had  not  uttered  a  sound  when  the  tree 
caught  him  and  now  he  was  completely  hidden  by  the 
thick  spruce  branches. 

Jan  stood  looking  round  not  knowing  what  had  be- 
come of  his  employer.  Presently  he  heard  the  old  famil- 
iar voice  he  had  always  obeyed;  but  it  sounded  so  feeble 
he  could  hardly  make  out  what  it  was  saying. 

8S 


86       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

"Go  get  a  team  and  some  men  to  take  me  home,"  said 
the  voice. 

"Shan't  I  help  you  from  under  first?'*  asked  Jan. 

"Do  as  I  tell  you!"  said  Eric  of  Falla. 

Jan,  knowing  his  employer  to  be  a  man  who  always 
demanded  prompt  obedience,  said  nothing  further  but 
hurried  back  to  Falla  as  fast  as  he  could.  The  farm  was 
some  distance  away,  so  that  it  took  time  to  get  there. 

On  arriving,  the  first  person  Jan  came  upon  was 
Lars  Gunnarson,  the  husband  of  Eric's  eldest  daughter 
and  prospective  master  of  Falla,  which  he  was  destined 
to  take  over  upon  the  decease  of  the  present  owner. 

When  Lars  Gunnarson  had  received  his  instructions 
he  ordered  Jan  to  go  straight  to  the  house  and  tell  the 
mistress  of  what  had  occurred;  then  he  was  to  call  the 
hired  boy.  Meantime  Lars  himself  would  run  down  to 
the  barn  and  harness  a  horse. 

"Perhaps  I  needn't  be  so  very  particular  about  tell- 
ing the  womenfolk  just  yet?"  said  Jan.  "For  if  they 
once  start  crying  and  fretting  it  will  only  mean  delay. 
Eric's  voice  sounded  so  weak  from  where  he  lay  that  I 
think  we'd  best  hurry  along." 

But  Lars  Gunnarson,  since  coming  to  the  farm,  had 
made  it  a  point  to  assert  his  authority.     He  would 


LARS  GUNNERSON  87 

no  more  take  back  an  order  once  given  than  would  his 
father-in-law. 

"Go  in  to  mother  at  once!"  he  commanded.  "Can't 
you  understand  that  she  must  get  the  bed  ready  so 
we'll  have  some  place  to  put  him  when  we  come  back 
with  him.?" 

Then  of  course  Jan  was  obliged  to  go  inside  and  notify 
the  mistress.  Try  as  he  would  to  make  short  work  of  it, 
it  took  time  to  relate  what  had  happened  and  how  it 
had  happened. 

When  Jan  returned  to  the  yard  he  heard  Lars  thun- 
dering and  swearing  in  the  stable.  Lars  was  a  poor 
hand  with  animals.  The  horses  would  kick  if  he  went 
anywhere  near  them  and  he  had  not  been  able  to  get 
one  of  the  beasts  out  of  its  stall  the  whole  time  that 
Jan  had  been  inside  talking  with  the  housewife. 

It  would  not  have  been  well  for  Jan  had  he  offered  to 
help  Lars.  Knowing  this  he  went  immediately  on  his 
other  errand,  and  fetched  the  hired  boy.  He  thought 
it  mighty  strange  that  Lars  had  not  told  him  to  speak 
to  Borje,  who  was  threshing  in  the  barn  close  by,  in- 
stead of  sending  him  after  the  hired  boy,  who  was  at 
work  out  in  the  birch-grove,  a  good  way  from  the  farm- 
vard. 


8S       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

And  while  Jan  ran  these  needless  errands,  the  faint 
voice  under  the  spruce  branches  rang  in  his  ears.  The 
voice  was  not  so  imperative  now,  but  it  begged  and  im- 
plored him  to  hasten.  "Fm  coming,  Tm  coming!*' 
Jan  whispered  back.  He  had  the  sensation  of  one  in  a 
nightmare  who  tries  to  run  but  who  cannot  take  a  step. 

Lars  had  at  last  managed  to  get  a  horse  into  the 
shafts.  Then  the  womenfolk  came  and  told  him  to  be 
sure  to  take  along  straw  and  blankets.  This  was  all 
very  well,  but  it  meant  still  further  delay. 

Finally  Lars  and  Jan  and  the  hired  boy  drove  away 
from  the  farm.  But  they  had  got  no  farther  than  to  the 
edge  of  the  forest,  when  Lars  stopped  the  horse. 

"One  gets  sort  of  rattled  when  one  receives  news  of 
this  kind,"  said  he.  "I  never  thought  of  it  till  just 
now — but  Borje  is  back  at  the  barn." 

"It  would  have  been  well  to  have  taken  him  along," 
said  Jan,  "  for  he's  twice  as  strong  as  any  of  us." 

Then  Lars  sent  the  hired  boy  back  to  the  farm  to  get 
Borje;  which  meant  a  long  wait. 

While  Jan  sat  in  the  sledge,  powerless  to  act,  he  felt  as 
though  within  him  opened  a  big,  empty  ice-cold  void. 
It  was  the  awful  certainty  that  they  would  be  too  late! 

Then  at  last  came  Borje  and  the  boy,  all  out  of  breath 


LARS  GUNNARSON  89 

from  running,  and  now  they  drove  on  into  the  woods. 
They  went  very  slowly,  though,  for  Lars  had  harnessed 
the  old  spavined  bay  to  the  sledge.  What  he  had  said 
about  his  being  rattled  must  have  been  true,  for  all  at 
once  he  wanted  to  turn  in  on  the  wrong  road. 

"If  you  go  in  that  direction,  we'll  come  to  Great 
Peak,"  Jan  told  him;  "and  we  must  get  to  the  woods 
beyond  Loby." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  returned  Lars,  "but  farther  up  there's 
a  crossroad  where  it's  better  driving." 

"What  road  might  that  be ?     I've  never  seen  it." 

"Wait,  and  I'll  show  you,"  said  Lars,  determined  to 
continue  up  the  mountain. 

Now  Borje  sided  with  Jan,  so  Lars  had  to  give  in 
of  course;  but  precious  time  had  been  consumed  while 
they  argued  with  him,  and  Jan  felt  as  if  all  the  life  had 
gone  out  of  his  body. 

"Nothing  matters  now,"  thought  he.  "Eric  of 
Falla  will  be  beyond  our  help  when  we  arrive." 

The  old  bay  jogged  along  the  forest  road  as  well  as 
it  could,  but  it  had  not  the  strength  for  a  heavy  pull 
like  this.  It  was  poorly  shod,  and  stumbled  time  after 
time.  When  going  uphill  the  men  had  to  get  down  from 
the  sledge  and  walk,  and  when  they  came  upon  trackless 


90       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

unbeaten  ground  in  the  thick  of  the  forest  the  horse 
was  almost  more  of  a  hindrance  than  a  help. 

At  all  events  they  got  there  finally.  Strange  to  say, 
they  found  Eric  of  Falla  in  fairly  good  condition;  he 
was  not  much  hurt  and  no  bones  were  broken.  One 
of  his  thighs  had  been  lacerated  by  a  branch,  and  there 
he  had  an  ugly  wound;  still  it  was  nothing  but  what  he 
could  recover  from. 

When  Jan  went  back  to  his  work  the  next  morning 
he  learned  that  Eric  had  a  high  fever  and  was  suffering 
intense  pain.  While  lying  on  the  frozen  ground  he  had 
caught  a  severe  cold,  which  developed  into  pneumonia, 
and  within  a  fortnight  he  was  dead. 


THE  RED  DRESS 

THE  summer  the  young  girl  was  in  her  seven- 
teenth year  she  went  to  church  one  Sunday  with 
her  parents.  On  the  way  she  had  worn  a  shawl, 
which  she  sHpped  off  when  she  came  to  the  church  knoll. 
Then  everybody  noticed  that  she  was  wearing  a  dress 
such  as  had  never  before  been  seen  in  the  parish. 

A  travelling  merchant,  one  of  the  kind  that  goes 
about  with  a  huge  pack  on  his  back,  had  found  his  way 
to  the  Ashdales,  and  on  seeing  Glory  Goldie  in  all  the 
glow  and  freshness  of  her  youth  he  had  taken  from  his 
pack  a  piece  of  dress  goods  which  he  tried  to  induce  her 
parents  to  buy  for  her.  The  cloth  was  a  changeable 
red,  of  a  texture  almost  Uke  satin  and  as  costly  as  it  was 
beautiful.  Of  course  Jan  and  Katrina  could  not  afford 
to  buy  for  their  girl  a  dress  of  that  sort,  though  Jan,  at 
least,  would  have  liked  nothing  better. 

Fancy!  When  the  merchant  had  vainly  pressed  and 
begged  the  parents  for  a  long  while  he  grew  terribly 
excited  because  he  could  not  have  his  way.     He  said 

91 


92       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

he  had  set  his  heart  on  their  daughter  having  the  dress, 
that  he  had  not  seen  another  girl  in  the  whole  parish 
who  would  set  it  off  as  well  as  she  could.  Whereupon  he 
had  measured  and  cut  off  as  much  of  the  cloth  as  was 
needed  for  a  frock,  and  presented  it  to  Glory  Goldie. 
He  did  not  want  any  payment,  all  he  asked  was  to  see 
the  young  girl  dressed  in  the  red  frock  the  next  time  he 
came  to  Ruffluck. 

Afterward  the  frock  was  made  up  by  the  best  seam- 
stress in  the  parish,  the  one  who  sewed  for  the  young 
ladies  at  Lovdala  Manor,  and  when  Glory  Goldie  tried 
it  on  the  effect  was  so  perfect  that  one  would  have 
thought  the  two  had  blossomed  together  on  one  of  the 
lovely  wild  briar  bushes  out  in  the  forest. 

The  Sunday  Glory  Goldie  showed  herself  at  church 
in  her  new  dress,  nothing  could  have  kept  Jan  and 
Katrina  at  home,  so  curious  were  they  to  hear  what  folks 
would  say. 

And  it  turned  out,  as  has  been  said,  that  everybody 
noticed  the  red  dress.  When  the  astonished  folk  had 
looked  at  it  once  they  turned  and  looked  again;  the 
second  time,  however,  they  glanced  not  only  at  the 
dress  but  at  the  young  girl  who  wore  it. 

Some  had  already  heard  the  story  of  the  dress.    Others 


THE  RED  DRESS  93 

wanted  to  know  how  it  happened  that  a  poor  cotter's 
lass  stood  there  in  such  fine  raiment.  Then  of  course 
Katrina  and  Jan  had  to  tell  them  all  about  the  travel- 
ling merchant's  visit,  and  when  they  learned  how  it  had 
come  about  they  were  all  glad  that  Fortuna  had  thought 
of  taking  a  little  peep  into  the  humble  home  down  in  the 
Ashdales. 

There  were  sons  of  landed  proprietors  who  declared 
that  if  this  girl  had  been  of  less  humble  origin  they 
would  have  proposed  to  her  then  and  there.  And  there 
were  daughters  of  landed  proprietors — some  of  them 
heiresses — who  said  to  themselves  that  they  would 
have  given  half  of  their  possessions  for  a  face  as  rosy 
and  young  and  radiant  with  health  as  hers. 

That  Sunday  the  Dean  of  Bro  preached  at  the 
Svartsjo  church,  instead  of  the  regular  pastor.  The 
dean  was  an  austere,  old-fashioned  divine  who  could 
not  abide  extravagance  in  any  form,  whether  in  dress 
or  other  things. 

Seeing  the  young  girl  in  the  bright  red  frock  he 
must  have  thought  she  was  arrayed  in  silk,  for  im- 
mediately after  the  service  he  told  the  sexton  to  call  the 
girl  and  her  parents,  as  he  wished  to  speak  with  them. 
Even  he  noticed  that  the  girl  and  the  dress  went  well 


94       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

together,  but  for  all  that  he  was  none  the  less  dis- 
pleased. 

"  My  child,"  he  said,  laying  his  hand  on  Glory  Goldie's 
shoulder,  "I  have  something  I  want  to  say  to  you. 
Nobody  could  prevent  me  from  wearing  the  vestments 
of  a  bishop,  if  I  so  wished;  but  I  never  do  it  because 
I  don't  want  to  appear  to  be  something  more  than  what 
I  am.  For  the  same  reason  you  should  not  dress  as 
though  you  were  a  young  lady  of  quality,  when  you 
are  only  the  daughter  of  a  poor  crofter." 

These  were  cutting  words,  and  poor  Glory  Goldie 
was  so  dismayed  she  could  not  answer.  But  Katrina 
promptly  informed  him  that  the  girl  had  received  the 
cloth  as  a  gift. 

"  Be  that  as  it  may,"  spoke  the  dean.  "  But  parents, 
can't  you  comprehend  that  if  you  allow  your  daughter 
to  array  herself  once  or  twice  in  this  fashion  she  will 
never  again  want  to  put  on  the  kind  of  clothes  you  are 
able  to  provide  for  her?" 

Now  that  the  dean  had  spoken  his  mind  in  plain 
words  he  turned  away;  but  before  he  was  out  of  ear- 
shot Jan  was  ready  with  a  retort. 

"If  this  little  girl  could  be  clothed  as  befits  her,  she 
would  be  as  gorgeous  as  the  sun  itself,"  said  he.     "  For 


THE  RED  DRESS  95 

a  sunbeam  of  joy  she  has  been  to  us  since  the  day  she 
was  born." 

The  dean  came  back  and  regarded  the  trio  thought- 
fully. Both  Katrina  and  Jan  looked  old  and  toil  worn, 
but  the  eyes  in  their  furrowed  faces  shone  when  they 
turned  them  toward  the  radiant  young  being  standing 
between  them. 

Then  the  dean  felt  it  would  be  a  shame  to  mar  the 
happiness  of  these  two  old  people.  Addressing  himself 
to  the  young  girl,  he  said  in  a  mild  voice : 

"If  it  is  true  that  you  have  been  a  light  and  a  com- 
fort to  your  poor  parents,  then  you  may  well  wear  your 
fine  dress  with  a  good  grace.  For  a  child  that  can 
bring  happiness  to  her  father  and  mother  is  the  best 
sight  that  our  eyes  may  look  upon." 


THE  NEW  MASTER 

WHEN  the  Ruffluck  family  came  home  from 
church  the  Sunday  the  dean  had  spoken  so 
beautifully  to  Glory  Goldie  they  found  two 
men  perched  on  their  fence,  close  to  the  gate.  One  of 
the  men  was  Lars  Gunnarson,  who  had  become  master 
of  Falla  after  Eric's  death,  the  other  was  a  clerk  from 
the  store  down  at  Broby,  where  Katrina  bought  her 
coffee  and  sugar. 

They  looked  so  indifferent  and  unconcerned  sitting 
there  that  Jan  could  hardly  think  they  wanted  to  see 
him;  so  he  simply  raised  his  cap  as  he  went  past  them 
into  the  house,  without  speaking. 

The  men  remained  where  they  were.     Jan  wished 

they  would  go  sit  where  he  could  not  see  them.     He 

knew  that  Lars  had  harboured  a  grudge  against  him 

since  that  ill-fated  day  in  the  forest  and  had  hinted  more 

than  once  that  Jan  was  getting  old  and  would  not  be 

worth  his  day's  wage  much  longer. 

Katrina  brought  on  the  midday  meal,  which  was  hur- 

96 


THE  NEW  MASTER  97 

riedly  eaten.  Lars  Gunnarson  and  the  clerk  still  sat 
on  the  fence,  laughing  and  chatting.  They  reminded 
Jan  of  a  pair  of  hawks  biding  their  time  to  swoop  down 
upon  helpless  prey.  Finally  the  men  got  down  ofF 
the  fence,  opened  the  gate,  and  went  toward  the 
house. 

Then,  after  all,  they  had  come  to  see  him! 

Jan  had  a  strong  presentment  that  they  wished  him 
ill.  He  glanced  anxiously  about,  as  if  to  find  some 
corner  where  he  might  hide.  Then  his  eyes  fell  on 
Glory  Goldie,  who  also  sat  looking  out  through  the 
window,  and  instantly  his  courage  came  back. 

Why  should  he  be  afraid  when  he  had  a  daughter 
like  her?  he  thought.  Glory  Goldie  was  wise  and  re- 
sourceful, and  afraid  of  nothing.  Luck  was  always  on 
her  side,  so  that  Lars  Gunnarson  would  find  it  far 
from  easy  to  get  the  best  of  her! 

When  the  two  men  came  in  they  seemed  as  uncon- 
cerned as  before.  Yet  Lars  said  that  after  sitting  so 
long  on  the  fence  looking  at  the  pretty  little  house 
they  had  finally  taken  a  notion  to  step  inside. 

They  lavished  praises  upon  everything  in  the  house 
and  Lars  remarked  that  Jan  and  Katrina  had  reason  to 
feel  very  thankful  to  Eric  of  Falla;  for  of  course  it 


98       THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

was  he  who  had  made  it  possible  for  them  to  build  a 
home  and  to  marry. 

**That  reminds  me,"  he  said  quickly,  looking  away 
from  Jan  and  Katrina.  "I  suppose  Eric  of  Falla  had 
the  foresight  to  give  you  a  deed  to  the  land  on  which  the 
hut  stands?" 

Neither  Jan  nor  Katrina  said  a  word.  Instantly 
they  knew  that  Lars  had  now  come  to  the  matter  he 
wanted  to  discuss  with  them. 

"I  understand  there  are  no  papers  in  existence," 
continued  Lars,  "but  I  can't  believe  it  is  so  bad  as  all 
that.  For  in  that  event  the  house  would  fall  to  the 
owner  of  the  land." 

Still  Jan  said  nothing,  but  Katrina  was  too  indignant 
to  keep  silent  any  longer. 

"Eric  of  Falla  gave  us  the  lot  on  which  this  house 
stands,"  she  said,  "and  no  one  has  the  right  to  take  it 
away  from  us!" 

"And  no  one  has  any  intention  of  doing  so,"  said  the 
new  owner  in  a  pacifying  tone.  He  only  wanted  to 
have  everything  regular,  that  was  all.  If  Jan  could  let 
him  have  a  hundred  rix-dollars  by  October  fairtime 

"A  hundred  rix-dollars!"  Katrina  broke  in,  her  voice 
rising  almost  to  a  shriek. 


THE  NEW  MASTER  99 

Lars  drew  his  head  back  and  tightened  his  lips. 

"And  you,  Jan,  you  don't  say  a  word!"  said  Katrina 
reproachfully.  "Don't  you  hear  that  Lars  wants  to 
squeeze  from  us  one  hundred  rix-dollars  ? " 

"It  won't  be  so  easy,  perhaps,  for  Jan  to  come  up 
with  one  hundred  rix-dollars,"  returned  Lars  Gun- 
narson,  "but  just  the  same  I've  got  to  know  what's 
mine." 

"And  so  you're  going  to  steal  our  hut?" 

"Nothing  of  the  kind!"  said  Lars.  "The  hut  is 
yours.     It's  the  land  I'm  after." 

"Then  we  can  move  the  hut  off  of  your  land,"  said 
Katrina. 

**It  would  hardly  be  worth  your  while  to  go  to  the 
bother  of  moving  something  you'll  not  be  able  to 
keep." 

"Well,  I  never!"  gasped  Katrina.  "Then  you 
really  do  mean  to  lay  hands  on  our  property?" 

Lars  Gunnarson  made  a  gesture  of  protest. 

No,  of  course  he  did  not  want  to  put  a  lien  on  the 
house,  not  he!  Had  he  not  already  told  them  as  much? 
But  it  so  happened  that  the  storekeeper  at  Broby  had 
sent  his  clerk  with  some  accounts  that  had  not  been 
settled. 


loo     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

The  clerk  now  produced  the  bills  and  laid  them  on  the 
table.  Katrina  pushed  them  over  to  Glory  Goldie 
and  told  her  to  figure  up  the  total  amount  due. 

It  was  no  less  than  one  hundred  rix-dollars  that  they 
owed! 

Katrina  went  white  as  a  sheet.  "I  see  that  you  mean 
to  turn  us  out  of  house  and  home,"  she  said,  faintly. 

"Oh,  no,"  answered  Lars,  "not  if  you  pay  what  you 
owe." 

"You  ought  to  think  of  your  own  parents,  Lars," 
Katrina  reminded  him.  "They,  too,  had  their  strug- 
gles before  you  became  the  son-in-law  of  a  rich  farmer." 

Katrina  had  to  do  all  the  talking,  as  Jan  would  not 
say  anything;  he  only  sat  and  looked  at  Glory  Goldie — 
looked  and  waited.  To  his  mind  this  affair  was  just 
something  that  had  been  planned  for  her  special  benefit, 
that  she  might  prove  her  worth. 

"When  you  take  the  hut  away  from  the  poor  man 
he's  done  for,"  wailed  Katrina. 

"I  don't  want  to  take  the  hut,"  said  Lars  Gunnar- 
son,  on  the  defensive.     "All  I  want  is  a  settlement." 

But  Katrina  was  not  listening.  "As  long  as  the 
poor  man  has  his  home  he's  as  good  as  anybody  else, 
but  the  homeless  man  knows  he's  nobody." 


THE  NEW  MASTER  loi 

Jan  felt  that  Katrina  was  right.  The  hut  was  built 
of  old  lumber  and  stood  aslant  on  a  poor  foundation. 
Small  and  cramped  it  certainly  was,  but  just  the  same 
it  seemed  as  if  all  would  be  over  for  them  if  they  lost  it. 
Jan,  for  his  part,  could  not  think  for  a  second  it  would 
be  as  bad  as  that.  Was  not  his  Glory  Goldie  there? 
And  could  he  not  see  how  her  eyes  were  beginning  to 
flash  fire?  In  a  little  while  she  would  say  something  or 
do  something  that  would  drive  these  tormentors  away. 

**0f  course  youVe  got  to  have  time  to  think  it  over,** 
said  the  new  owner.  But  bear  in  mind  that  either  you 
move  on  the  first  of  October  or  you  pay  the  storekeeper 
at  Broby  the  one  hundred  rix-dollars  you  owe  him  on  or 
before  that  date.  Besides,  I  must  have  another  hun- 
dred for  the  land." 

Old  Katrina  sat  wringing  her  toil-gnarled  hands. 
She  was  so  wrought  up  that  she  talked  to  herself,  not 
caring  who  heard  her. 

"How  can  I  go  to  church  and  how  can  I  be  seen 
among  people  when  I'm  so  poor  I  haven't  even  a  hut  to 
live  in?" 

Jan  was  thinking  of  something  else.  He  called  to 
mind  all  the  beautiful  memories  associated  with  the 
hut.     It  was  here,  near  the  table,  the  midwife  had  laid 


I02     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

the  child  in  his  arms.  It  was  over  there,  in  the  door- 
way, he  had  stood  when  the  sun  peeped  out  through 
the  clouds  to  name  the  little  girl.  The  hut  was  one 
with  himself;  with  Katrina;  with  Glory  Goldie.  It 
could  never  be  lost  to  them. 

He  saw  Glory  Goldie  clench  her  fist,  and  felt  that 
she  would  come  to  their  aid  very  soon. 

Presently  Lars  Gunnarson  and  the  shopkeeper's  clerk 
got  up  and  moved  toward  the  door.  When  they  left 
they  said  "good-bye,"  but  not  one  of  the  three  who 
remained  in  the  hut  rose  or  returned  the  salutation. 

The  moment  the  men  were  gone  the  young  girl, 
with  a  proud  toss  of  her  head,  sprang  to  her  feet. 

"If  you  would  only  let  me  go  out  in  the  world!"  she 
said. 

Katrina  suddenly  ceased  mumbling  and  wringing 
her  hands.  Glory  Goldie's  words  had  awakened  in  her 
a  faint  hope. 

"It  shouldn't  be  so  very  difficult  to  earn  a  couple  of 
hundred  rix-dollars  between  now  and  the  first  of  Octo- 
ber," said  the  girl.  "This  is  only  midsummer,  so  it's 
three  whole  months  till  then.  If  you  will  let  me  go 
to  Stockholm  and  take  service  there,  I  promise  you 
the  house  shall  remain  in  your  keeping." 


THE  NEW  MASTER  loj 

When  Jan  of  Ruffluck  heard  these  words  he  grew 
ashen.  His  head  sank  back  as  if  he  were  about  to 
swoon.  How  dear  of  the  little  girl!  he  thought.  It 
was  for  this  he  had  waited  the  whole  time — yet  how, 
how  could  he  ever  bear  to  let  her  go  away  from  him? 


ON  THE  MOUNTAIN-TOP 

JAN  of  Ruffluck  walked  along  the  forest  road 
where  he  and  his  womenfolk,  happy  and  con- 
tent, had  passed  on  the  way  home  from  church 
a  few  hours  earlier. 

He  and  Katrina,  after  long  deliberation,  had  decided 
that  before  sending  their  daughter  away  or  doing  any- 
thing else  in  this  matter  that  Jan  had  better  see  Senator 
Carl  Carlson  of  Storvik  and  ask  him  whether  Lars 
Gunnarson  had  the  right  to  take  the  hut  from  them. 

There  was  no  one  in  the  whole  of  Svartsjo  Parish  who 
was  so  well  versed  in  the  law  and  the  statutes  as  was 
the  senator  from  Storvik,  and  those  who  had  the  good 
sense  to  seek  his  advice  in  matters  of  purchase  and  sale, 
in  making  appraisals,  or  setting  up  an  auction,  or  draw- 
ing up  a  will,  could  rest  assured  that  everything  would 
be  done  in  a  correct  and  legal  manner  and  that  after- 
ward there  was  no  fear  of  their  becoming  involved  in 
lawsuits  or  other  entanglements. 

The  senator  was  a  stern  and  masterful  man,  brusque 

104 


ON  THE  MOUNTAIN-TOP  105 

of  manner  and  harsh  of  voice,  and  Jan  was  none  too 
pleased  at  the  thought  of  having  to  talk  with  him. 

"The  first  thing  he'll  do  when  I  come  to  him  will  be 
to  read  me  a  lecture  because  I've  got  no  papers," 
thought  Jan.  "He  has  scared  some  folks  so  badly  at 
the  very  start  that  they  never  dared  tell  him  what  they 
had  come  to  consult  him  about." 

Jan  left  home  in  such  haste  that  he  had  no  time  to 
think  about  the  dreadful  man  he  was  going  to  see.  But 
while  passing  through  the  groves  of  the  Ashdales  toward 
the  big  forest  the  old  dread  came  over  him.  "It  was 
mighty  stupid  in  me  not  to  have  taken  Glory  Goldie 
along!"  he  said  to  himself. 

When  leaving  home  he  had  not  seen  the  girl  about, 
so  he  concluded  that  she  had  betaken  herself  to  some 
lonely  spot  in  the  woods,  to  weep  away  her  grief,  as 
she  never  wanted  to  be  seen  by  any  one  when  she  felt 
downhearted. 

Just  as  Jan  was  about  to  turn  from  the  road  into  the 
forest  he  heard  some  one  yodelling  and  singing  up  on  the 
mountain,  to  right  of  him.  He  stopped  and  listened.  It 
was  a  woman's  voice;  surely  it  could  not  be  the  one  it 
sounded  like!  In  any  case,  he  must  know  for  a  cer- 
tainty before  going  farther. 


io6     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

He  could  hear  the  song  clearly  and  distinctly,  but 
the  singer  was  hidden  by  the  trees.  Presently  he  turned 
from  the  road  and  pushed  his  way  through  some  tangle- 
brush  in  the  hope  of  catching  a  glimpse  of  her;  but  she 
was  not  as  near  as  he  had  imagined.  Nor  was  she 
standing  still.  On  the  contrary,  she  seemed  to  be 
moving  farther  away — farther  away  and  higher  up. 

At  times  the  singing  seemed  to  come  from  directly 
above  him.  The  singer  must  be  going  up  to  the  peak, 
he  thought. 

She  had  evidently  taken  a  winding  path  leading  up 
the  mountain,  where  it  was  almost  perpendicular. 
Here  there  was  a  thick  growth  of  young  birches;  so  of 
course  he  could  not  see  her.  She  seemed  to  be  mount- 
ing higher  and  higher,  with  the  swiftness  of  a  bird  on  the 
wing,  singing  all  the  while. 

Then  Jan  started  to  climb  straight  up  the  mountain; 
but  in  his  eagerness  he  strayed  from  the  path  and  had 
to  make  his  way  through  the  bewildering  woods.  No 
wonder  he  was  left  far  behind!  Besides  he  had  begun 
to  feel  as  if  he  had  a  heavy  weight  on  his  chest;  he 
could  hardly  get  his  breath  as  he  tramped  uphill, 
straining  his  ears  to  catch  the  song.  Finally  he  went  so 
slowly  that  he  seemed  not  to  be  moving  at  all. 


ON  THE  MOUNTAIN-TOP  107 

It  was  not  easy  to  distinguish  voices  out  in  the  woods, 
where  there  was  so  much  that  rustled  and  murmured 
and  chimed  in,  as  it  were.  But  Jan  felt  that  he  must 
get  to  where  he  could  see  the  one  who  for  very  joy 
went  flying  up  the  steep.  Otherwise  he  would  harbour 
doubts  and  misgivings  the  rest  of  his  life.  He  knew  that 
once  he  was  on  the  mountain  top,  where  it  was  barren  of 
trees,  the  singer  could  not  elude  him. 

The  view  from  the  summit  was  glorious.  From  there 
could  be  seen  the  whole  of  long  Lake  Loven,  the  green 
vales  encircling  the  lake  and  all  the  blue  hills  that  shelter 
the  valley.  When  folks  from  the  shut-in  Ashdales 
climbed  to  the  towering  peak  they  must  have  thought 
of  the  mountain  whither  the  Tempter  had  once  taken 
Our  Lord,  that  he  might  show  Him  all  the  kingdoms  of 
the  world,  and  their  glories. 

When  Jan  had  at  last  left  the  dense  woods  behind 
him  and  had  come  to  a  cleared  place,  he  saw  the  singer. 
At  the  top  of  the  highest  peak  was  a  cairn,  and  on  the 
topmost  stone  of  this  cairn  silhouetted  against  the  pale 
evening  sky  stood  Glory  Goldie  Sunnycastle,  in  her  scar- 
let dress. 

If  the  folk  in  the  dales  and  woodlands  below  had 
turned  their  eyes  toward  the   peak  just  then,  they 


io8     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

would  have  seen  her  standing  there  in  her  shining  rai- 
ment. 

Glory  Goldie  looked  out  over  miles  and  miles  of 
country.  She  saw  steep  hills  crowned  with  white 
churches  on  the  shores  of  the  lake,  manors  and  founder- 
ies  surrounded  by  parks  and  gardens,  rows  of  farm- 
houses along  the  skirt  of  the  woods,  stretches  of  field 
and  meadow  land,  winding  roads  and  endless  tracts 
of  forest. 

At  first  she  sang.  But  presently  she  hushed  her  sing- 
ing and  thought  only  of  gazing  out  over  the  wide,  open 
world  before  her.  Suddenly  she  flung  out  her  arms  as 
if  wanting  to  take  it  all  into  her  embrace — all  this 
wealth  and  power  and  bigness  from  which  she  had  been 
shut  out  until  that  day. 

Jan  did  not  return  until  far  into  the  night,  and  when 
he  reached  home  he  could  give  no  coherent  account  of 
his  movements.  He  declared  he  had  seen  and  talked 
with  the  senator,  but  what  the  senator  had  advised  him 
to  do  he  could  not  remember. 

"It's  no  good  trying  to  do  anything,"  he  said  again 
and  again.  That  was  all  the  satisfaction  Katrina 
got. 

Jan  walked  all  bent  over,  and  looked  ill.     Earth  and 


ON  THE  MOUNTAIN-TOP  109 

moss  clung  to  his  coat,  and  Katrina  asked  him  if  he  had 
fallen  and  hurt  himself. 

"No,"  he  told  her,  but  he  may  have  lain  on  the 
ground  a  while. 

Then  he  must  be  ill,  thought  Katrina. 

It  was  not  that  either.  It  was  just  that  something 
had  stopped  the  instant  it  dawned  on  him  that  his 
little  girl  had  offered  to  save  the  home  for  her  parents 
not  out  of  love  for  them,  but  because  she  longed  to  get 
away  and  go  out  in  the  world.  But  this  he  would  not 
speak  of. 


T" 


THE  EVE  OF  DEPARTURE 

HE  evening  before  Glory  Goldie  of  Ruffluck 
■        left  for  Stockholm  Jan  discovered  no  end  of 

"^  things  that  had  to  be  attended  to  all  at  once. 
He  had  no  sooner  got  home  from  his  work  than  he  must 
betake  himself  to  the  forest  to  gather  firewood,  where- 
upon he  set  about  fixing  a  broken  board  in  the  gate 
that  had  been  hanging  loose  a  whole  year.  When  he 
had  finished  with  that  he  dragged  out  his  fishing  tackle 
and  began  to  overhaul  it. 

All  this  time  he  was  thinking  how  strange  it  seemed 
not  to  feel  any  actual  regret.  Now  he  was  the  same  as 
he  had  been  seventeen  years  before;  he  felt  neither  glad 
nor  sad.  His  heart  had  stopped  Hke  a  watch  that  has 
received  a  hard  blow  when  he  had  seen  Glory  Goldie 
on  the  mountain-top,  opening  her  arms  to  the  whole 
world. 

It  had  been  like  this  with  him  once  before.  Then 
folks  had  wanted  him  to  be  glad  of  the  little  girl's 
coming,  but  he  had  not  cared  a  bit  about  it;  now  they  all 


THE  EVE  OF  DEPARTURE  iii 

expected  him  to  be  sad  and  disconsolate  over  her  de- 
parture, and  he  was  not  that,  either. 

The  hut  was  full  of  people  who  had  come  to  say 
good-bye  to  Glory  Goldie.  Jan  had  not  the  face  to  go 
in  and  let  them  see  that  he  neither  wept  nor  wailed;  so 
he  thought  it  best  to  stop  outside. 

At  all  events  it  was  a  good  thing  for  him  matters  had 
taken  this  turn,  for  if  all  had  been  as  before  he  knew  he 
should  never  have  been  able  to  endure  the  separation, 
and  all  the  heartache  and  loneliness. 

A  while  ago,  in  passing  by  the  window,  he  had  noticed 
that  the  hut  inside  was  decked  with  leaves  and  wild 
flowers.  On  the  table  were  coffee  cups,  as  on  the  day 
of  which  he  was  thinking.  Katrina  was  giving  a  little 
party  in  honour  of  the  daughter  who  was  to  fare  forth 
into  the  wide  world  to  save  the  home.  Every  one 
seemed  to  be  weeping,  both  the  housefolk  and  those 
who  had  come  to  bid  the  little  girl  Godspeed.  Jan 
heard  Glory  Goldie's  sobs  away  out  in  the  yard,  but 
they  had  no  effect  upon  him. 

**My  good  people,"  he  mumbled  to  himself,  "this  is'^as 
it  should  be.  Look  at  the  young  birds !  They  are  thrust 
out  of  the  nest  if  they  don't  leave  it  willingly.  Have  you 
ever  watched  a  young  cuckoo?    What  could  be  worse 


112      THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

than  the  sight  of  him  lying  in  the  nest,  fat  and  sleek,  and 
shrieking  for  food  the  whole  blessed  day  while  his  parents 
wear  themselves  out  to  provide  for  him  ?  It  won't  do  to 
let  the  young  ones  sit  around  at  home  and  become  a 
burden  to  us  older  ones.  They  have  got  to  go  out  into 
the  world  and  shift  for  themselves  my  good  friends." 

At  last  all  was  quiet  in  the  house.  The  neighbours 
had  left,  so  that  Jan  could  just  as  well  have  gone  in- 
side; but  he  went  on  puttering  with  his  fishing  tackle  a 
while  longer.  He  would  rather  that  Glory  Goldie 
and  Katrina  should  be  in  bed  and  asleep  before  he 
crossed  the  threshold. 

By  and  by,  when  he  had  heard  no  sound  from  within 
for  ever  so  long,  he  stole  up  to  the  house  as  cautiously  as 
a  thief. 

The  womenfolk  had  not  retired.  As  Jan  passed  by 
the  open  window  he  saw  Glory  Goldie  sitting  with  her 
arms  stretched  out  across  the  table,  her  head  resting 
on  them.  It  looked  as  if  she  were  still  crying.  Katrina 
was  standing  back  in  the  room  wrapping  her  big  shawl 
around  Glory  Goldie's  bundle  of  clothing, 

"You  needn't  bother  with  that,  mother,"  said  Glory 
Goldie  without  raising  her  head.  "Can't  you  see  that 
father  is  mad  at  me  because  I'm  leaving?" 


THE  EVE  OF  DEPARTURE  113 

"Then  he'll  have  to  get  glad  again,"  returned 
Katrina,  calmly. 

"You  say  that  because  you  don't  care  for  him,"  said 
the  girl,  through  her  sobs.  "All  you  think  about  is  the 
hut.  But  father  and  I,  we  think  of  each  other,  and 
I'll  not  leave  him!" 

"But  what  about  the  hut?"  asked  Katrina. 

"It  can  go  as  it  will  with  the  hut,  if  only  father  will 
care  for  me  again." 

Jan  moved  quietly  away  from  the  door,  where  he 
had  been  standing  a  moment,  listening,  and  sat  down  on 
the  step.  He  never  thought  for  an  instant  that  Glory 
Goldie  would  remain  at  home.  Indeed  he  knew  better 
than  did  any  one  else  that  she  must  go  away.  All  the 
same  it  was  to  him  as  if  the  soft  little  bundle  had  again 
been  laid  in  his  arms.  His  heart  had  been  set  going 
once  more.  Now  it  was  beating  away  in  his  breast  as 
if  trying  to  make  up  for  lost  time.  With  that  he  felt 
that  his  armour  of  defence  was  gone. 

Then  came  grief  and  longing.  He  saw  them  as  dark 
shadows  in  among  the  trees.  He  opened  his  arms  to 
them,  a  smile  of  happiness  lighting  his  face. 

"Welcome!     Welcome!"  he  cried. 


AT  THE  PIER 

WHEN  the  steamer  Anders  Fryxell  pulled  out 
from  the  pier  at  Borg  Point  with  Glory 
Goldie  of  Ruffluck  on  board,  Jan  and  Ka- 
trina  stood  gazing  after  it  until  they  could  no  longer  see 
the  faintest  outUne  of  either  the  girl  or  the  boat.  Every 
one  else  had  left  the  pier,  the  watchman  had  hauled 
down  the  flag  and  locked  the  freight  shed,  but  they  still 
tarried. 

It  was  only  natural  that  the  parents  should  stand 
there  as  long  as  they  could  see  anything  of  the  boat, 
but  why  they  did  not  go  their  ways  afterward  they 
hardly  knew  themselves.  Perhaps  they  dreaded  the 
thought  of  going  home  again,  of  stepping  into  the 
lonely  hut  in  each  other's  company. 

"I've  got  no  one  but  him  to  cook  for  now!"  mused 

Katrina,  "no  one  but  him  to  wait  for!     But  what  do  I 

care  for  him?     He  could  just  as  well  have  gone,  too. 

It  was  the  girl  who  understood  him  and  all  his  silly 

talk,  not  I.     I'd  be  better  off  alone." 

114 


AT  THE  PIER  115 

"It  would  be  easier  to  go  home  with  my  grief  if  I 
didn't  have  that  sour-faced  old  Katrina  sitting  round 
the  house,"  thought  Jan.  "The  girl  knew  so  well  how 
to  get  on  with  her,  and  could  make  her  happy  and  con- 
tent; but  now  I  suppose  I'll  never  get  another  civil 
word  from  that  quarter." 

Of  a  sudden  Jan  gave  a  start.  Bending  forward  he 
clapped  his  hands  to  his  knees.  His  eyes  kindled  with 
new-found  hope  and  his  whole  face  shone.  He  kept 
his  gaze  on  the  water  and  Katrina  thought  something 
extraordinary  must  have  riveted  his  attention,  although 
she,  who  stood  beside  him,  saw  nothing  save  the  cease- 
less play  of  the  gray-green  waves,  chasing  each  other 
across  the  surface  of  the  lake,  with  never  a  stop. 

Jan  ran  to  the  far  end  of  the  pier  and  bent  -down  over 
the  water,  with  the  look  on  his  face  which  he  always 
wore  whenever  Glory  Goldie  approached  him,  but  which 
he  could  never  put  on  when  talking  to  any  one  else. 
His  mouth  opened  and  his  lips  moved  as  though  he  were 
speaking,  but  not  a  word  was  heard  by  Katrina.  Smile 
after  smile  crossed  his  face,  just  as  when  the  girl  used 
to  stand  and  rail  at  him. 

"Why,  Jan!"  said  Katrina,  "what  has  come  over 
you?" 


ii6     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

He  did  not  reply,  but  motioned  to  her  to  be  still. 
Then  he  straightened  himself  a  little.  His  gaze  seemed 
to  be  following  something  that  glided  away  over  the 
gray-green  waves.  Whatever  it  was,  it  moved  quickly 
in  the  direction  the  boat  had  taken.  Now  Jan  no  longer 
bent  forward  but  stood  quite  upright,  shading  his  eyes 
with  his  hand  that  he  might  see  the  better.  Thus 
he  remained  standing  till  there  was  nothing  more 
to  be  seen,  apparently.  Then,  turning  to  Katrina,  he 
said: 

"You  didn't  see  anything,  perhaps?" 

"What  can  one  see  here  but  the  lake  and  its  waves  ?" 

"The  little  girl  came  rowing  back,"  Jan  told  her,  his 
voice  lowered  to  a  whisper.  "She  had  borrowed  a 
boat  of  the  captain.  I  noticed  it  was  marked  ex- 
actly like  the  steamer.  She  said  there  was  something 
she  had  forgotten  about  when  she  left;  it  was  something 
she  wanted  to  say  to  us." 

"My  dear  Jan,  you  don't  know  what  you're  talking 
about!  If  the  girl  had  come  back  then  I,  too,  would 
have  seen  her.'* 

"Hush  now,  and  I'll  tell  you  what  she  wants  of  us!" 
said  Jan,  in  solemn  and  mysterious  whispers.  "It 
seems  she  had  begun  to  worry  about  us;  she  was  afraid 


AT  THE  PIER  117 

we  two  wouldn't  get  on  by  ourselves.  Before  she  had 
always  walked  between  us,  she  said,  with  one  hand  in 
mine  and  the  other  in  yours,  and  in  that  way  everything 
had  gone  well.  But  now  that  she  wasn't  here  to  keep 
us  together  she  didn't  know  what  might  happen, 
'Now  perhaps  father  and  mother  will  go  their  separate 
ways,'  she  said.'* 

**Sakes  alive!"  gasped  Katrina,  "that  she  should  have 
thought  of  that ! "  The  woman  was  so  affected  by  what 
had  just  been  said — for  the  words  were  the  echo  of 
her  own  thoughts — that  she  quite  forgot  that  the 
daughter  could  not  possibly  have  come  back  to  the  pier 
and  talked  with  Jan  without  her  seeing  it. 

*"So  now  I've  come  back  to  join  your  hands,'  said 
she,  *and  you  mustn't  let  go  of  each  other,  but  keep  a 
firm  hold  for  my  sake  till  I  return  and  link  hands  with 
you  again.'  As  soon  as  she  had  said  this  she  rowed 
away." 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment  on  the  pier. 

"And  here's  my  hand,"  Jan  said  presently,  in  an 
uncertain  voice  that  betrayed  both  shyness  and  anxiety 
— and  put  out  a  hand,  which  despite  ail  his  hard  toil  had 
always  remained  singularly  soft.  "I  do  this  because 
the  girl  wants  me  to,"  he  added. 


ii8     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

"And  here's  mine/*  said  Katrina.  "I  don't  under- 
stand what  it  could  have  been  that  you  saw,  but  if 
you  and  the  girl  want  us  to  stick  together,  so  do  I." 

Then  they  went  all  the  way  home  to  their  hut,  hand 
in  hand. 


THE  LETTER 

ONE  morning  when  Glory  Goldie  had  been  gone 
about  a  fortnight,  Jan  was  out  in  the  pasture 
nearest  the  big  forest,  mending  a  wattled  fence. 
He  was  so  close  to  the  woods  that  he  could  hear  the 
murmur  of  the  pines  and  see  the  grouse  hen  walking 
about  under  the  trees,  scratching  for  food — a  long  line 
of  grouse  chicks  trailing  after  her. 

Jan  had  nearly  finished  his  work  when  he  heard  a 
loud  bellowing  from  the  wooded  heights!  It  sounded 
so  weird  and  awful  he  began  to  be  alarmed.  He  stood 
still  a  moment  and  listened.  Soon  he  heard  it  again. 
Then  he  knew  it  was  nothing  to  be  afraid  of,  but  on  the 
contrary,  it  seemed  to  be  a  cry  for  help. 

He  threw  down  his  pickets  and  branches  and  hurried 
through  the  birch  grove  into  the  dense  fir  woods,  where 
he  had  not  gone  far  before  he  discovered  what  was 
amiss.  Up  there  was  a  big,  treacherous  marsh.  A  cow 
belonging  to  the  Falla  folk  had  gone  down  in  a  quag- 
mire and  Jan  saw  at  once  that  it  was  the  best  cow  they 

119 


I20     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

had  on  the  farm,  one  for  which  Lars  Gunnarson  had  been 
offered  two  hundred  rix-dollars.  She  had  sunk  deep  in  the 
mire  and  was  now  so  terrified  that  she  lay  quite  still  and 
sent  forth  only  feeble  and  intermittant  bellowings.  It 
was  plain  that  she  had  struggled  desperately  for  she 
was  covered  with  mud  clear  to  her  horns,  and  round 
about  her  the  green  moss-tufts  had  been  torn  up. 
She  had  bellowed  so  loud  that  Jan  thought  every  one 
in  Ashdales  must  have  heard  her,  yet  no  one  but  himself 
had  come  up  to  the  marsh.  He  did  not  tarry  a  second, 
but  ran  straight  to  the  farm  for  help. 

It  was  slow  work  setting  poles  in  the  marsh,  laying 
out  boards  and  slipping  ropes  under  the  cow,  to  draw 
her  up  by.  For  when  the  men  reached  her  she  had 
sunk  to  her  back,  so  that  only  her  head  was  above  the 
mire.  After  they  had  finally  dragged  her  back  onto 
firm  ground  and  carted  her  home  to  Falla  the  housewife 
invited  all  who  had  worked  over  the  animal  to  come 
inside  for  coffee. 

No  one  had  been  so  zealous  in  the  rescue  work  as  had 
Jan  of  Ruffluck.  But  for  him  the  cow  would  have  been 
lost.  And  just  think!  She  was  a  cow  worth  at  least 
two  hundred  rix-dollars. 

To  Jan  this  seemed  a  rare  stroke  of  luck.     Surely 


THE  LETTER  121 

the  new  master  and  mistress  could  not  fail  to  recognize 
so  great  a  service.  Something  of  a  similar  nature  once 
happened  in  the  old  master's  time.  Then  it  was  a 
horse  that  had  been  impaled  on  a  picket  fence.  The 
one  who  found  the  horse  and  had  it  carted  home  re- 
ceived from  Eric  of  Falla  a  reward  of  ten  rix-dollars; 
and  that  despite  the  fact  that  the  beast  was  so  badly 
injured  that  Eric  had  to  shoot  it. 

But  the  cow  was  alive  and  in  nowise  harmed.  So 
Jan  pictured  himself  going  on  the  morrow  to  the  sex- 
ton, or  to  some  other  person  who  could  write,  to  ask 
him  to  write  to  Glory  Goldie  and  tell  her  to  come 
home. 

When  Jan  came  into  the  living-room  at  Falla  he  na- 
turally drew  himself  up  a  bit.  The  old  housewife  was 
pouring  coffee  and  he  did  not  wonder  at  it  when  she 
handed  him  his  cup  before  even  Lars  Gunnarson  had 
been  served.  Then,  while  they  were  all  having  their 
coffee,  every  one  spoke  of  how  well  Jan  had  done,  that 
is,  every  one  but  the  farmer  and  his  wife;  not  a  word  of 
praise  came  from  them. 

But  now  that  Jan  felt  so  confident  his  hard  times 
were  over  and  his  luck  was  coming  back,  it  was  easy 
for  him  to  find  grounds  for  comfort.     It  might  be  that 


122     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

Lars  was  silent  because  he  wished  to  make  what  he 
would  say  all  the  more  impressive.  But  he  was  cer- 
tainly withholding  his  thanks  a  distressingly  long  while. 

The  situation  had  become  embarrassing.  The  others 
had  stopped  talking  and  looked  a  little  uncomfortable. 
When  the  old  mistress  went  round  to  refill  the  cofFee 
cups  some  of  the  men  hesitated;  Jan  among  them. 

"Oh,  have  another  wee  drop,  Jan!"  she  said.  "If 
you  hadn't  been  so  quick  to  act  we  would  have  lost  a 
cow  that's  worth  her  two  hundred  rix-dollars." 

This  was  followed  by  a  dead  silence,  and  now  every 
one's  eyes  turned  toward  the  man  of  the  house.  All 
were  waiting  for  some  expression  of  appreciation  from 
him. 

Lars  cleared  his  throat  two  or  three  times,  as  if  to 
give  added  weight  to  what  he  was  about  to  say. 

"It  strikes  me  there's  something  queer  about  this 
whole  business,"  he  began.  "You  all  know  that  Jan 
owes  two  hundred  rix-dollars  and  you  also  know  that 
last  spring  I  was  offered  just  that  sum  for  the  cow.  It 
seems  to  fit  in  altogether  too  well  with  Jan's  case  that 
the  cow  should  have  gone  down  in  the  marsh  to-day 
and  that  he  should  have  rescued  her." 

Lars  paused  and  again  cleared  his  throat.    Jan  rose 


THE  LETTER  123 

and  moved  toward  him;  but  neither  he  nor  any  of  the 
others  had  an  answer  ready. 

"I  don't  know  how  Jan  happened  to  be  the  one  who 
heard  the  cow  bellowing  up  in  the  marsh,"  pursued 
Lars.  "Perhaps  he  was  nearer  the  scene  when  the 
mishap  occurred  than  he  would  have  us  think.  Maybe 
he  saw  a  possibility  of  getting  out  of  debt  and  deliber- 
ately drove  the  cow " 

Jan  brought  his  fist  down  on  the  table  with  a  crash 
that  made  the  cups  jump  in  their  saucers. 

"You  judge  others  by  yourself,  you!"  he  said. 
"That's  the  sort  of  thing  you  might  do,  but  not  L 
You  must  know  that  I  can  see  through  your  tricks. 
One  day  last  winter  you " 

But  just  when  Jan  was  on  the  point  of  saying  some- 
thing that  could  only  have  ended  in  an  irreparable 
break  between  himself  and  his  employer,  the  old  house- 
wife nipped  him  by  the  coat  sleeve. 

"  Look  out,  Jan ! "  said  she. 

Jan  did  so.  Then  he  saw  Katrina  coming  toward 
the  house  with  a  letter  in  her  hand. 

That  was  surely  the  letter  from  Glory  Goldie  which 
they  had  been  longing  for  every  day  since  her  departure. 
Katrina,   knowing  how  happy  Jan  would   be   to  get 


124     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

this,  had  come  straight  over  with  it  the  moment  it 
arrived. 

Jan  glanced  about  him,  bewildered.  Many  ugly 
words  were  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue,  but  now  he  had  no 
time  to  give  vent  to  them.  What  did  he  care  about  be- 
ing revenged  on  Lars  Gunnarson?  Why  should  he 
bother  to  defend  himself?  The  letter  drew  him  away 
with  a  power  that  was  irresistible.  He  was  out  of  the 
house  and  with  Katrina  before  the  people  inside  had  re- 
covered from  their  dread  of  what  he  might  have  hurled 
at  his  employer  in  the  way  of  accusation. 


AUGUST  DAR  NOL 

ONE  evening,  when  Glory  Goldie  had  been  gone 
about  a  month,  August  Dar  Nol  came  down 
to  the  Ashdales.  August  and  Glory  had  been 
comrades  at  the  Ostanby  school  and  had  been  confirmed 
the  same  summer. 

A  fine,  manly  lad  was  August  Dar  Nol,  and  a  favour- 
ite with  every  one.  His  parents  were  people  of  means 
and  no  one  had  a  brighter  or  more  assured  future  to 
look  forward  to  than  had  he.  Having  been  absent 
from  home  for  six  months,  he  had  only  learned  on 
his  return  that  Glory  Goldie  had  gone  away  in 
order  to  earn  money  to  save  her  old  home.  It  was 
his  mother  who  told  him  of  this,  and  before  she  had 
finished  talking  he  snatched  up  his  cap  and  rushed 
out,  never  pausing  until  he  had  reached  the  gate  at 
Ruffluck  Croft;  there  he  stopped  and  looked  toward 
the  hut. 

Katrina  saw  August  standing  there  and  made  a 
pretext  of  going  to  the  well  for  water  in  order  to  speak 

us 


126     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

to  him;  but  the  lad  did  not  appear  to  see  her,  so  Katrina 
immediately  went  back  into  the  house. 

Then  in  a  little  while  Jan  came  down  from  the  forest 
with  an  armful  of  wood,  and  when  August  saw  him  com- 
ing he  stepped  to  one  side  until  he,  too,  had  gone  in; 
then  he  went  back  to  the  gate. 

Presently  the  window  of  the  hut  swung  open,  dis- 
closing Jan  seated  at  one  side  of  the  window-table  smok- 
ing his  pipe,  and  Katrina  at  the  other  side,  knitting. 

"Well,  Katrina  dear,"  said  Jan,  "now  we're  having 
a  real  cosy  evening.  There's  only  one  thing  I  wish 
for." 

"I  wish  for  a  hundred  things!"  sighed  Katrina,  "and 
if  I  could  have  them  all  I'd  still  be  unsatisfied." 

"But  I  only  wish  the  seine-maker,  or  somebody  else 
who  can  read,  would  drop  in  and  read  us  Glory  Goldie's 
letter." 

"You've  had  that  letter  read  to  you  so  many  times 
since  you  got  it  that  you  ought  to  know  it  by  heart." 

"That  may  be  true  enough,"  returned  Jan,  "but  still 
it  always  does  me  good  to  hear  it  read,  for  then  I  feel  as 
though  the  little  girl  herself  were  standing  and  talking 
to  me,  and  I  seem  to  see  her  eyes  beam  on  me  as  I 
listen  to  her  words." 


AUGUST  DAR  NOL  127 

"I  wouldn't  mind  hearing  it  again,  myself,"  said 
Katrina,  glancing  out  through  the  open  window. 
"But  on  a  fine  light  evening  like  this  we  can't  expect 
folks  to  come  to  our  hut." 

"It  would  be  better  to  me  than  the  taste  of  white 
bread  with  coffee  to  hear  Glory  Goldie's  letter  read 
while  I'm  sitting  here  smoking,"  declared  Jan,  "but 
I'm  sure  every  one  in  the  Ashdales  has  grown  tired  of 
being  asked  to  read  the  letter  over  and  over,  and  now 
I  don't  know  who  to  turn  to." 

The  words  were  hardly  out  of  his  mouth,  when  the 
door  opened,  and  in  walked  August  Dar  Nol.  Jan 
started  in  surprise. 

"Bless  me!  Here  you  come,  my  dear  August,  just 
when  wanted."  After  Jan  had  shaken  hands  with  the 
caller  and  pulled  up  a  chair  for  him  he  said:  "I've  got  a 
letter  I'd  like  you  to  read  to  us.  It's  from  an  old  school- 
mate of  yours.  Maybe  you'd  be  interested  to  hear 
how  she's  getting  on?" 

August  Dar  Nol  took  the  letter  and  read  it  aloud, 
lingering  over  each  word  as  if  drinking  it  in.  When  he 
had  finished,  Jan  remarked: 

"How  wonderfully  well  you  read,  my  dear  August! 
I've  never  heard  Goldie's  words  sound  as  beautiful 


128      THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

as  from  your  lips.  Would  you  do  me  the  favour  to  read 
the  letter  once  more?" 

Then  the  boy  read  the  letter  for  the  second  time,  with 
the  same  deep  feeling.  It  was  as  if  he  had  come  with  a 
thirst-parched  throat  to  a  spring  of  pure  water.  When 
he  had  read  to  the  end  he  carefully  folded  the  letter 
and  smoothed  it  over  with  his  hand.  As  he  was 
about  to  return  it  to  Jan,  it  occurred  to  him  the  letter 
had  not  been  properly  folded  and  he  must  do  it  over. 
That  done,  he  sat  very  silent.  Jan  tried  to  start  a 
conversation,  but  failed.     Finally  the  boy  rose  to  go. 

"It*s  so  nice  to  get  a  little  help  sometimes,"  said  Jan. 
"Now  I  have  another  favour  to  ask  of  you.  We  don't 
know  just  what  to  do  with  Glory  Goldie's  kitten.  It 
will  have  to  be  put  out  of  the  way,  I  suppose,  as  we 
can't  afford  to  keep  it;  but  I  can't  bear  the  thought 
of  that,  nor  has  Katrina  the  heart  to  drown  it.  We've 
talked  of  asking  some  stranger  to  take  it." 

August  Dar  Nol  stammered  a  few  words,  which  could 
scarcely  be  heard. 

"You  can  put  the  kitten  in  a  basket,  Katrina,"  Jan 
said  to  his  wife,  "then  August  will  take  it  along,  so 
that  we'll  not  have  to  see  it  again." 

Katrina  then  picked  up  a  little  kitten  that  lay  asleep 


AUGUST  DAR  NOL  129 

on  the  bed,  placed  it  in  an  old  basket  around  which 
she  wrapped  a  cloth,  and  then  turned  it  over  to  the 
boy. 

"I'm  glad  to  be  rid  of  this  kitten,"  said  Jan.  "It's 
so  happy  and  playful — too  much  like  Glory  Goldie 
herself.     It's  best  to  have  it  out  of  the  way." 

Young  Dar  Nol,  without  a  word,  went  toward  the 
door;  but  suddenly  he  turned  back,  took  Jan's  hand,  and 
pressed  it. 

"Thanks!"  he  said  in  a  choked  voice.  "You  have 
given  me  more  than  you  yourself  know." 

"Don't  imagine  it,  my  dear  August  Dar  Nol!"  Jan 
said  to  himself  when  the  boy  had  gone.  "This  is 
something  I  understand  about.  I  know  what  I've  given 
you,  and  I  know  who  has  taught  me  to  know." 


OCTOBER  THE  FIRST 

THE  first  day  of  October  Jan  lay  on  the  bed  the 
whole  afternoon,  fully  dressed,  his  face  turned 
to  the  wall,  and  nobody  could  get  a  word  out 
of  him. 

In  the  forenoon  he  and  Katrina  had  been  down  to  the 
pier  to  meet  the  little  girl.  Not  that  Glory  Goldie  had 
written  them  to  say  she  was  coming,  for  indeed  she  had 
not!  It  was  only  that  Jan  had  figured  out  that  it  could 
not  be  otherwise.  This  was  the  first  of  October,  the 
day  the  money  must  be  paid  to  Lars  Gunnarson,  so  of 
course  Glory  Goldie  would  come.  He  had  not  ex- 
pected her  home  earlier.  He  knew  she  would  have  to 
remain  in  Stockholm  as  long  as  she  could  in  order  to 
lay  by  all  that  money;  but  that  she  should  be  away  any 
longer  he  never  supposed.  Even  if  she  had  not  suc- 
ceeded in  scraping  together  the  money,  that  was  no 
reason  why  she  should  be  away  after  the  first  of  Oc- 
tober. 

That  morning  while  Jan  had  stood  on  the  pier  wait- 

130 


OCTOBER  THE  FIRST  131 

ing,  he  had  said  to  himself:  "When  the  little  girl  sees 
us  from  the  boat  she'll  put  on  a  sad  face,  and  the  mo- 
ment she  lands  she'll  tell  us  sh'e  has  not  been  able  to 
raise  the  money.  When  she  says  that  Katrina  and 
I  will  pretend  to  take  her  at  her  word  and  I'll  say  that 
I  can't  understand  how  she  dared  come  home  when  she 
knew  that  all  Katrina  and  I  cared  about  was  the 
money."  He  was  sure  that  before  they  were  away  from 
the  pier  she  would  go  down  in  her  pocket,  bring  up  a 
well-filled  purse,  and  turn  it  over  to  them.  Then,  while 
Katrina  counted  the  bank  notes,  he  would  only  stand 
and  look  at  Glory  Goldie.  The  little  girl  would  then 
see  that  all  in  the  world  he  cared  about  was  to  have 
her  back,  and  she  would  tell  him  he  was  just  as  big  a 
simpleton  now  as  when  she  went  away. 

Thus  had  Jan  pictured  to  himself  Glory  Goldie's 
homecoming.     But  his  dream  did  not  come  true. 

That  day  he  and  Katrina  did  not  have  a  long  wait 
at  the  pier.  The  boat  arrived  on  time,  but  it  was  so 
overladen  with  passengers  and  freight  bound  for  the 
Broby  Fair  that  at  first  glance  they  were  unable  to 
tell  whether  or  not  the  little  girl  was  on  board.  Jan  had 
expected  that  she  would  be  the  first  to  come  tripping 
down  the  gangplank;  but  only  a  couple  of  men  came 


132     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

ashore.  Then  Jan  attempted  to  look  for  her  on  the 
boat;  but  he  could  get  nowhere  for  the  crush.  All  the 
same  he  felt  so  positive  she  was  there  that  when  the 
deck  hands  began  to  draw  in  the  gangplank  he  shouted 
to  the  captain  not  to  let  the  boat  leave  as  there  was  an- 
other person  to  come  ashore  here.  The  captain  ques- 
tioned the  purser,  who  assured  him  there  were  no  more 
passengers  for  Svartsjo. 

Then  the  boat  pulled  out  and  Katrina  and  Jan  had 
to  go  home  by  themselves,  and  the  moment  they  were 
inside  the  hut  Jan  cast  himself  down  on  the  bed — so 
weary  and  disheartened  that  he  did  not  know  how  he 
would  ever  be  able  to  get  up  again. 

The  Ashdales  folk  who  had  seen  the  father  and  mother 
return  from  the  pier  without  Glory  Goldie  were  greatly 
concerned.  One  after  the  other,  the  neighbours  dropped 
in  at  Ruffluck  to  find  out  how  matters  stood  with  them. 

Was  it  true  that  Glory  Goldie  had  not  come  on  the 
boat.?  they  inquired.  And  was  it  true  that  they  had 
received  no  letter  or  message  from  her  during  the 
whole  month  of  September  ? 

Jan  answered  not  a  word  to  all  their  queries.  It 
mattered  not  who  came  in — he  lay  still.  Katrina  had 
to  enlighten  the  neighbours  as  best  she  could.     They 


OCTOBER  THE  FIRST  133 

thought  Jan  lay  on  the  bed  because  he  was  in  despair 
of  losing  the  hut.  They  could  think  what  they  liked 
for  all  of  him. 

Katrina  wept  and  wailed,  and  once  inside  the  friends 
felt  they  must  remain,  if  only  out  of  pity  for  her,  and 
to  give  what  little  comfort  they  could. 

It  was  not  likely  that  Lars  Gunnarson  would  take 
the  house  from  them,  they  said.  The  old  mistress  of 
Falla  would  never  let  that  happen.  She  had  always 
shown  herself  to  be  a  just  and  upright  person.  Besides, 
the  day  was  not  over  yet,  and  Glory  Goldie  might  still 
be  heard  from.  To  be  sure  it  would  be  nothing  short  of 
marvellous  if  she  had  succeeded  in  earning  2CX)  rix- 
dollars  in  less  than  three  months'  time:  but  then,  that 
girl  always  had  such  good  luck. 

They  discussed  the  chances  for  and  against.  Katrina 
informed  them  that  Glory  Goldie  had  earned  nothing 
whatever  the  first  weeks,  that  she  had  taken  lodgings 
with  a  family  from  Svartsjo,  now  living  in  Stockholm, 
where  she  had  been  obliged  to  pay  for  her  keep.  And 
then  one  day  she  had  had  the  good  fortune  to  meet 
in  the  street  the  merchant  who  had  given  her  the  red 
dress,  and  he  had  found  a  place  for  her. 

Would  it  not  be  reasonable  to  suppK>se  that  the  met- 


134     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

chant  had  also  raised  the  money  for  her?  That  was 
not  altogether  impossible. 

"No,  it  was  not  impossible,"  said  Katrina,  "but  since 
the  girl  has  neither  come  herself  nor  written  it's  plain 
she  has  failed." 

Every  one  in  the  hut  grew  more  anxious  and  appre- 
hensive for  every  moment  that  passed.  They  all  felt 
that  some  dire  misfortune  would  soon  fall  upon  those 
who  lived  there.  When  the  tension  was  becoming  un- 
bearable the  door  opened  once  more  and  a  man  who  was 
seldom  seen  in  the  Ashdales  came  in. 

The  instant  this  man  entered  it  became  as  still  in 
the  hut  as  on  a  winter  night  in  the  forest,  and  every 
one's  eyes  save  Jan's  alone  turned  toward  him.  Jan 
did  not  stir,  although  Katrina  whispered  to  him  that 
Senator  Carl  Carlson  of  Storvik  had  just  come  in. 

The  senator  held  in  his  hand  a  roll  of  papers  and 
every  one  took  for  granted  that  he  had  been  sent  here 
by  the  new  owner  of  Falla,  to  notify  the  Ruffluck  folk 
of  what  must  befall  them,  now  that  they  could  not 
meet  Lars  Gunnarson's  claim. 

Carl  Carlson  wore  his  usual  magisterial  mien  and  no 
one  could  guess  how  heavily  the  blow  he  had  come  to 
deal  would  fall.     He  went  up  and  shook  hands,  first 


OCTOBER  THE  FIRST  135 

with  Katrina,  then  with  the  others,  and  each  one  in 
turn  rose  as  he  came  to  them;  the  only  one  who  did  not 
rise  was  Jan. 

"I  am  not  very  well  acquainted  in  this  district,"  said 
the  senator,  "but  I  gather  that  this  must  be  the  place 
in  the  Ashdales  that  is  called  Ruffluck  Croft." 

It  was  of  course.  Every  one  nodded  in  the  affirmative, 
but  no  one  was  able  to  utter  an  audible  word.  They 
wondered  that  Katrina  had  the  presence  of  mind  to 
nudge  Borje,  and  make  him  get  up  and  give  his  chair 
to  the  senator. 

After  drawing  the  chair  up  to  the  table  the  senator 
laid  the  roll  of  papers  down,  then  he  took  out  his  snufF 
box  and  placed  it  beside  the  papers,  whereupon  he 
removed  his  spectacles  from  their  case  and  wiped  them 
with  his  big  blue-and-white  checkered  handkerchief. 
Afeer  these  preliminaries  he  glanced  round  the  room, 
looking  from  one  person  to  the  other.  Those  who  sat 
there  were  persons  of  such  little  importance  he  did  not 
even  know  them  by  name. 

"I  wish  to  speak  with  Jan  Anderson  of  Ruffluck,"  he 
said. 

"That's  him  over  there,"  volunteered  the  seine- 
maker,  pointing  at  the  bed. 


136     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

"Is  he  sick?"  inquired  the  senator. 

"Oh,  no!  Oh,  no!"  replied  half  a  dozen  at  the  same 
time. 

"And  he  isn*t  drunk,  either,"  added  Borje. 

"Nor  is  he  asleep,"  said  the  seine-maker. 

"He  has  walked  so  far  to-day  he's  all  tired  out,"  said 
Katrina,  thinking  it  best  to  explain  the  matter  in  that 
way.  At  the  same  time  she  bent  down  over  her  hus- 
band and  tried  to  persuade  him  to  rise. 

But  Jan  lay  still. 

"Does  he  understand  what  I'm  saying?"  asked  the 
senator. 

"Yes  indeed,"  they  all  assured  him. 

"Perhaps  he's  not  expecting  any  glad  tidings,  seeing 
it's  Senator  Carl  Carlson  who  is  paying  him  a  call." 
This  from  the  seine-maker. 

The  senator  turned  his  head  and  stared  at  the  seine- 
maker.  "Or  Bengtsa  of  Lusterby  has  not  always 
been  so  afraid  of  meeting  Carl  Carlson  of  Storvik,"  he 
observed  in  a  mild  voice.  Turning  toward  the  table 
again,  he  took  up  a  letter. 

Every  one  was  dumbfounded.  The  senator  had  actu- 
ally spoken  in  a  friendly  tone.  He  could  almost  be 
said  to  have  smiled. 


OCTOBER  THE  FIRST  137 

"The  fact  is,"  he  began,  "a  couple  of  days  ago  I  re- 
ceived a  communication  from  a  person  who  calls  her- 
self Glory  Goldie  Sunnycastle,  daughter  of  Jan  of 
Ruffluck,  in  which  she  says  she  left  home  some  months 
ago  to  try  to  earn  two-hundred  rix-dollars,  which  sum 
her  parents  have  to  pay  to  Lars  Gunnarson  of  Falla  on 
the  first  day  of  October  in  order  to  obtain  full  rights  of 
ownership  to  the  land  on  which  their  hut  stands." 

Here  the  senator  paused  a  moment  so  that  his  hearers 
would  be  able  to  follow  him. 

"And  now  she  sends  the  money  to  me,"  he  con- 
tinued, "with  the  request  that  I  come  down  to  the  Ash- 
dales  and  see  that  this  matter  is  properly  settled  with 
the  new  owner  of  Falla;  so  that  he  won't  be  able  to  play 
any  new  trick  later  on." 

"That  girl  has  got  some  sense  in  her  head,"  the 
senator  remarked  as  he  folded  the  letter.  "She  turns 
to  me  from  the  start.  If  all  did  as  she  has  done  there 
would  be  less  cheating  and  injustice  in  this  parish." 

Before  the  close  of  that  remark  Jan  was  sitting  on  the 
edge  of  the  bed.  "But  the  girl?  Where  is  she.?"  he 
asked. 

"And  now  I'd  like  to  know,"  the  senator  proceeded, 
taking  no  notice  of  Jan's  question,  "whether  the  par- 


138     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

ents  are  in  accord  with  the  daughter  and  authorize  me 
to  close " 


"But  the  girl,  the  girl?"  Jan  struck  in.  "Where  is 
she?" 

"Where  she  is?"  said  the  senator,  looking  in  the  letter 
to  see.  "She  says  it  was  impossible  for  her  to  earn  all 
this  money  in  just  two  or  three  months,  but  she  has 
found  a  place  with  a  kind  lady,  who  advanced  her  the 
money,  and  now  she  will  have  to  stay  with  the  lady 
until  she  has  made  it  good." 

"Then  she's  not  coming  home?"  Jan  asked. 

"No,  not  for  the  present,  as  I  understand  it,"  replied 
the  senator. 

Again  Jan  lay  down  on  the  bed  and  turned  his  face 
to  the  wall. 

What  did  he  care  for  the  hut  and  all  that  ?  What  was 
the  good  of  his  going  on  living,  when  his  little  girl  was 
not  coming  back? 


THE  DREAM  BEGINS 

THE  first  few  weeks  after  the  senator's  call  Jan 
was  unable  to  do  a  stroke  of  work:  he  just  lay 
abed  and  grieved.  Every  morning  he  rose 
and  put  on  his  clothes,  intending  to  go  to  his  work;  but 
before  he  was  outside  the  door  he  felt  so  weak  and  weary 
that  all  he  could  do  was  to  go  back  to  bed. 

Katrina  tried  to  be  patient  with  Jan,  for  she  under- 
stood that  pining,  like  any  other  sickness,  had  to  run  its 
course.  Yet  she  could  not  help  wondering  how  long 
it  would  be  before  Jan's  intense  yearning  for  Glory 
Goldie  subsided.  "Perhaps  he'll  be  lying  round  like 
this  till  Christmas!"  she  thought.  "Or  possibly  the 
whole  winter?" 

And  this  might  have  been  the  case,  too,  had  not  the 
old  seine-maker  dropped  in  at  Ruffluck  one  evening  and 
been  asked  to  stay  for  coffee. 

The  seine-maker,  like  most  persons  whose  thoughts 
are  far  away  and  who  do  not  keep  in  touch  with  what 
happens  immediately  about  them,  was  always  taciturn. 

139 


I40     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

But  when  his  coffee  had  been  poured  and  he  had  emp- 
tied it  into  his  saucer,  to  let  it  cool,  it  struck  him  that 
he  ought  to  say  something. 

"To-day  there's  bound  to  be  a  letter  from  Glory 
Goldie,"  he  said.     "I  feel  it  in  my  bones." 

"We  had  greetings  from  her  only  a  fortnight  ago  in 
her  letter  to  the  senator,"  Katrina  reminded  him. 

The  seine-maker  blew  into  his  saucer  a  couple  of  times 
before  saying  anything  more.  Whereupon  he  again  found 
it  expedient  to  bridge  a  long  silence  with  a  word  or  so. 

"Maybe  some  blessing  has  come  to  the  girl,  and 
it  has  given  her  something  to  write  about." 

"What  kind  of  blessing  might  that  be.?"  scouted 
Katrina.  "When  you've  got  to  drudge  as  a  servant, 
one  day  is  as  humdrum  as  another." 

The  seine-maker  bit  off  a  corner  of  a  sugar-lump  and 
gulped  his  coffee.  When  he  had  finished  an  appalling 
stillness  fell  upon  the  room. 

"It  might  be  that  Glory  Goldie  met  some  person  in 
the  street,"  he  blurted  out,  his  half-dead  eyes  vacantly 
staring  at  space.  He  seemed  not  to  know  what  he 
was  saying. 

Katrina  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  respond;  so  re- 
plenished his  cup  without  speaking. 


THE  DREAM  BEGINS  141 

"Maybe  the  person  she  met  was  an  old  lady  who  had 
difficulty  in  walking,'*  the  seine-maker  went  on  in  the 
same  ofFhand  manner,  "and  maybe  she  stumbled  and 
fell  when  Glory  Goldie  came  along." 

"Would  that  be  anything  to  write  about?"  asked 
Katrina,  weary  of  this  senseless  talk. 

"But  suppose  Glory  Goldie  stopped  and  helped  the 
old  lady  up?"  pursued  the  seine-maker,  "and  she  was 
so  thankful  to  the  girl  for  helping  her  that  she  opened 
her  purse  and  gave  her  all  of  ten  rix-doUars — ^wouldn't 
that  be  worth  telling?" 

"Why  certainly,"  said  Katrina,  "if  it  were  true. 
But  this  is  just  something  you're  making  up." 

"It  is  well,  sometimes,  to  be  able  to  indulge  in  little 
thought  feasts,"  contended  the  seine-maker,  "they  are 
often  more  satisfying  than  the  real  ones." 

"You've  tried  both  kinds,"  returned  Katrina,  "so 
you  ought  to  know." 

The  seine-maker  went  his  way  directly,  and  Katrina 
gave  no  further  thought  to  his  story. 

As  for  Jan,  he  took  it  at  first  as  idle  chatter.  But 
lying  abed,  with  nothing  to  take  up  his  mind,  presently 
he  began  to  wonder  if  there  was  not  some  hidden  mean- 
ing back  of  the  seine-maker's  words.     The  old  man's 


142      THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

tone  sounded  a  bit  peculiar  when  he  spoke  of  the  letter. 
Would  he  have  sat  there  and  made  up  such  a  long 
story  only  for  talk's  sake?  Perhaps  he  had  heard 
something.  Perhaps  Glory  Goldie  had  written  to  him? 
It  was  quite  possible  that  something  so  great  had  come 
to  the  little  girl  that  she  dared  not  send  direct  word 
to  her  parents,  and  wrote  instead  to  the  seine-maker, 
asking  him  to  prepare  them, 

"He'll  come  again  to-morrow,"  thought  Jan,  "and 
then  we'll  hear  all  about  it." 

But  for  some  reason  the  seine-maker  did  not  come 
back  the  next  day,  nor  the  day  after.  By  the  third 
day  Jan  had  become  so  impatient  to  see  his  old  friend 
that  he  got  up  and  went  over  to  his  cabin,  to  find  out 
whether  there  was  anything  in  what  he  had  said. 

The  old  man  was  sitting  alone  mending  a  drag-net 
when  Jan  came  in.  He  was  so  crippled  from  rheuma- 
tism, he  said,  he  had  been  unable  to  leave  the  house  for 
several  days. 

Jan  did  not  want  to  ask  him  outright  if  he  had  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  Glory  Goldie.  He  thought  he 
would  attain  his  object  more  easily  by  approaching 
it  in  the  indirect  way  the  other  had  taken.  So  he 
said: 


THE  DREAM  BEGINS  143 

"I've  been  thinking  of  what  you  told  us  about  Glory 
Goldie  the  last  time  you  were  at  our  place." 

The  seine-maker  looked  up  from  his  work,  puzzled. 
It  was  some  little  time  before  he  comprehended  what 
Jan  alluded  to.  "Why,  that  was  just  a  little  whimsey 
of  mine,"  he  returned  presently. 

Then  Jan  went  very  close  to  the  old  man.  "Any- 
how it  was  something  pleasant  to  listen  to,"  he  said. 
"You  might  have  told  us  more,  perhaps,  if  Katrina 
hadn't  been  so  mistrustful?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  replied  the  seine-maker.  "This  is  the 
sort  of  amusement  one  can  afford  to  indulge  in  down 
here,  in  the  Ashdales." 

"I  have  thought,"  continued  Jan,  emboldened  by 
the  encouragement,  "that  maybe  the  story  didn't 
end  with  the  old  lady  giving  Glory  Goldie  the  ten  rix- 
dollars.  Perhaps  she  also  invited  the  girl  to  come  to 
see  her?" 

"Maybe  she  did,"  said  the  seine-maker. 

"Maybe  she's  so  rich  that  she  owns  a  whole  stone 
house?" 

"That  was  a  happy  thought,  friend  Jan!" 

"And  maybe  the  rich  old  lady  will  pay  Glory  Goldie *s 
debt?"  Jan  began,  but  stopped  short,  because  the  old 


144     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

man's  daughter-in-law  had  just  come  in,  and  of  course 
he  did  not  care  to  let  her  into  the  secret. 

"So  you're  out  to-day,  Jan,"  observed  the  daughter- 
in-law.     "I'm  glad  you're  feeling  better." 

"For  that  I  have  to  thank  my  good  friend  01' 
Bengtsa!"  said  Jan,  with  an  air  of  mystery.  He's  the 
one  who  has  cured  me." 

Jan  said  good-bye,  and  left  at  once.  For  a  long 
while  the  seine-maker  sat  gazing  out  after  him. 

"I  don't  know  what  he  can  have  meant  by  saying 
that  I  have  cured  him,"  the  old  man  remarked  to  his 

daughter-in-law.     "It   can't   be   that   he's ?     No, 

no!" 


HEIRLOOMS 

ONE  evening,  toward  the  close  of  autumn,  Jan 
was  on  his  way  home  from  Falla,  where  he 
had  been  threshing  all  day.  After  his  talk 
with  the  seine-maker  his  desire  for  work  had  come  back 
to  him.  He  felt  now  that  he  must  do  what  he  could  to 
keep  up  so  that  the  little  girl  on  her  return  would  not 
be  subjected  to  the  humiliation  of  finding  her  parents 
reduced  to  the  condition  of  paupers. 

When  Jan  was  far  enough  away  from  the  house  not 
to  be  seen  from  the  windows  he  noticed  a  woman  in 
the  road  coming  toward  him.  Dusk  had  already  fallen, 
but  he  soon  saw  it  was  the  mistress  herself — not  the  new 
one,  but  the  old  and  rightful  mistress  of  Falla.  She  had 
on  a  big  shawl  that  came  down  to  the  hem  of  her  skirt. 
Jan  had  never  seen  her  so  wrapped  up,  and  wondered 
if  she  was  ill.  She  had  looked  poorly  of  late.  In  the 
spring,  when  her  husband  died,  she  had  not  a  gray  hair 
on  her  head,  and  now,  half  a  year  afterward,  she  had 
not  a  dark  hair  left. 

145 


146     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

The  old  mistress  stopped  and  greeted  Jan,  after  which 
the  two  stood  and  talked.  She  said  nothing  that  would 
indicate  that  she  had  come  out  expressly  to  see  him, 
but  he  felt  it  to  be  so.  It  flashed  into  his  head  that 
she  wanted  to  speak  with  him  about  Glory  Goldie,  and 
he  was  rather  miffed  when  she  began  to  talk  about 
something  quite  different. 

"I  wonder,  Jan,  if  you  remember  the  old  owner  of 
Falla,  my  father,  who  was  master  there  before  Eric 
earner 

"Why  shouldn't  I  remember  him,  when  I  was  all 
of  twelve  at  the  time  of  his  death  ? " 

"He  had  a  good  son-in-law,"  said  the  old  mistress. 

"He  had  that,"  agreed  Jan. 

The  old  mistress  was  silent  a  moment,  and  sighed 
once  or  twice  before  she  continued :  "  I  want  to  ask  your 
advice  about  something,  Jan.  You  are  not  the  sort 
that  would  go  about  tittle-tattling  what  I  say." 

"No,  I  can  hold  my  tongue." 

"Yes,  I've  noticed  that  this  year." 

New  hopes  arose  in  Jan.  It  would  not  be  surprising, 
thought  he,  if  Glory  Goldie  had  turned  to  the  old  mis- 
tress of  Falla  and  asked  her  to  tell  him  and  Katrina  of 
the  great  thing  that  had  come  to  her.     For  the  old 


HEIRLOOMS  147 

seine-maker  had  been  taken  down  with  rheumatic 
fever  shortly  after  their  interrupted  conversation,  and 
for  weeks  he  had  been  too  ill  to  see  him.  Now  he  was 
up  and  about  again,  but  very  feeble.  The  worst  of  it 
was  that  after  his  illness  his  memory  seemed  to  be  gone. 
He  had  waited  for  him  to  say  something  more  about 
Glory  Goldie's  letter,  but  as  he  had  failed  to  do  so,  and 
could  not  even  take  a  hint,  he  had  asked  him  straight 
out.  And  the  old  man  had  declared  he  had  not  re- 
ceived any  letter.  To  convince  Jan  he  had  pulled  out 
the  table  drawer  and  thrown  back  the  lid  of  his  clothes- 
chest,  to  let  him  see  for  himself  that  there  was  no  such 
letter. 

Of  course  he  had  forgotten  what  he  did  with  it,  Jan 
concluded.  So,  no  wonder  the  little  girl  had  turned  to 
the  mistress  of  Falla.  Pity  she  hadn't  done  it  in  the 
first  place!  Now  that  the  old  mistress  was  hesitating 
so  long  he  felt  certain  in  his  own  mind  that  he  was 
right.  But  when  she  again  returned  to  the  subject  of 
her  father,  he  was  so  surprised  he  could  hardly  follow 
her.     She  said: 

"When  father  was  nearing  the  end  he  summoned 
Eric  of  Falla  to  his  bedside  and  thanked  him  for  his 
loving  care  of  a  helpless  old  man  in  his  declining  years. 


148     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

*  Don't  think  about  that,  Father,'  said  Eric.  'We're 
glad  to  have  you  with  us  just  as  long  as  you  care  to 
stay.'  That's  what  Eric  said.  And  he  meant  it, 
tool" 

"He  did  that,"  confirmed  Jan.  "There  were  no 
fox-tricks  about  him!" 

"Wait,  Jan!"  said  the  mistress,  "we'll  just  speak  of 
the  old  people  for  the  present.  Do  you  remember  the 
long  silver-mounted  stick  father  used  to  carry?" 

"Yes;  both  the  stick  and  the  high  leather  cap  he  al- 
ways wore  when  he  went  to  church." 

"So  you  remember  the  cap,  too?  Do  you  know 
what  father  did  at  the  last?  He  told  me  to  fetch  him 
his  stick  and  cap,  and  then  he  gave  them  to  Eric.  *I 
could  have  given  you  something  that  was  worth  more 
money,'  he  told  Eric,  *but  I  am  giving  you  these  in- 
stead, for  I  know  you  would  rather  have  something 
I  have  used.*" 

"That  was  an  honour  well  earned."  When  Jan  said 
that  he  noticed  that  the  old  mistress  drew  her  shawl 
closer  together.  He  was  sure  now  she  was  hiding 
something  under  it — maybe  a  present  from  Glory 
Goldie!  "She'll  get  round  to  that  in  time,"  he  thought. 
"All  this  talk  about  her  father  is  only  a  makeshift." 


HEIRLOOMS  149 

"I  have  often  spoken  of  this  to  my  children,"  the 
old  mistress  went  on,  "and  also  to  Lars  Gunnarson. 
Last  spring,  when  Eric  lay  sick,  I  think  both  Lars  and 
Anna  expected  that  Lars  would  be  called  to  the  bedside, 
as  Eric  had  once  been  called.  I  had  brought  him  in  the 
stick  and  cap  so  they'd  be  handy  in  case  Eric  wished 
to  give  them  to  Lars;  but  he  had  no  such  thought." 

The  old  mistress's  voice  shook  as  she  said  that,  and 
when  she  spoke  again  her  tone  sounded  anxious  and 
uncertain. 

"Once,  when  we  were  alone,  I  asked  Eric  what  his 
wishes  were,  and  he  said  if  I  wanted  to  I  could  give  the 
things  to  Lars  when  he  was  gone  as  he  had  not  the 
strength  to  make  speeches." 

Whereupon  the  mistress  of  Falla  threw  back  her  big 
shawl,  and  then  Jan  saw  that  she  held  under  it  a  long, 
silver-mounted  ebony  stick  and  a  stiff,  high-crowned 
leather  cap. 

"Some  words  are  too  heavy  for  utterance,"  she 
said  with  great  gravity.  "Answer  me  with  just  a 
nod,  Jan,  if  you  will.  Can  I  give  these  to  Lars  Gun- 
narson?" 

Jan  drew  back  a  step.  This  was  a  matter  he  had 
entirely  dismissed  from  his  mind.     It  seemed  such  a 


150     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

long  time  since  Eric  of  Falla  died  he  hardly  remem- 
bered how  it  happened. 

"You  understand,  Jan,  that  all  I  want  to  know  is 
whether  Lars  can  accept  the  stick  and  cap  with  the 
same  right  as  Eric.  You  must  know,  as  you  were  with 
him  that  time  in  the  forest.  It  would  be  well  for  me," 
she  added,  as  Jan  did  not  speak,  "if  I  could  give  them 
to  Lars.  I  believe  there  would  be  less  friction  after- 
ward between  the  young  folks  and  me." 

Her  voice  failed  her  again,  and  Jan  began  to  per- 
ceive why  she  had  aged  so  much  the  past  few  months; 
but  now  his  mind  was  so  taken  up  with  other  things 
that  he  no  longer  cherished  the  old  resentment  against 
his  new  employer. 

"It's  best  to  forgive  and  forget,"  he  said.  "It  pays 
in  the  long  run." 

The  old  mistress  caught  her  breath.  "Then  it  is 
just  as  I  thought!"  she  said,  drawing  herself  up  to  her 
full  height.  "I'll  not  ask  you  to  tell  what  took  place. 
It's  best  for  me  not  to  know.  But  one  thing  is  certain, 
Lars  Gunnarson  shall  never  get  his  hands  on  my  father's 
stick!" 

She  had  already  turned  to  go,  then  suddenly  faced 
about.     "Here,  Jan,"  she  said,  holding  out  the  things. 


HEIRLOOMS  151 

"You  may  have  the  stick  and  cap,  for  I  want  them  to 
be  in  good,  honest  hands.  I  daren't  take  them  home 
again  lest  I  be  forced  to  turn  them  over  to  Lars;  so 
you  keep  them  as  a  memento  of  the  old  master,  who 
always  thought  well  of  you.'* 

Then  she  walked  away,  erect  and  proud,  and  there 
Jan  stood  holding  the  cap  and  stick.  He  hardly  knew 
how  it  had  come  about.  He  had  never  expected  to  be  so 
honoured.  Were  these  heirlooms  now  to  be  his .?  Then 
in  a  moment,  he  found  an  explanation:  Glory  Goldie 
was  back  of  it  all.  The  old  mistress  knew  that  he  was 
soon  to  be  elevated  to  a  station  so  exalted  that  nothing 
would  be  too  good  for  him.  Indeed,  had  the  stick  been 
of  silver  and  the  cap  of  gold  they  would  have  been  even 
more  suitable  for  the  father  of  Glory  Goldie. 


CLOTHED  IN  SATIN 

NO  LETTER  had  come  from  Glory  Goldie  to 
either  her  father  or  mother.  But  it  mattered 
very  little  now  that  Jan  knew  she  was  silent 
simply  because  she  wished  her  parents  to  be  all  the  more 
surprised  and  happy  when  the  time  came  for  her  to 
proclaim  the  good  tidings. 

But,  in  any  case,  it  was  a  good  thing  for  him  that  he 
had  peeped  into  her  cards.  Otherwise  he  might  easily 
have  been  made  a  fool  of  by  persons  who  thought  they 
knew  more  about  Glory's  doings  than  he  did.  For 
instance,  there  was  Katrina's  experience  at  church 
the  first  Sunday  in  Advent.  Katrina  had  been  to 
service,  and  upon  her  return  Jan  had  noticed  that  she 
was  both  alarmed  and  depressed. 

She  had  seen  a  couple  of  youths  who  were  just  back 
from  Stockholm  standing  on  the  church  knoll  talking 
with  a  group  of  young  boys  and  girls.  Thinking  they 
might  be  able  to  give  her  some  news  of  Glory  Goldie, 
she  had  gone  up  to  them  to  make  inquiries. 

152 


CLOTHED  IN  SATIN  153 

The  youths  were  evidently  telling  of  some  of  their 
escapades,  for  all  the  men,  at  least,  laughed  uproari- 
ously. Katrina  thought  their  behaviour  very  un- 
seemly, considering  they  were  on  church  ground. 
The  men  must  have  realized  this  themselves,  for  when 
she  came  up  they  nudged  one  another  and  hushed. 
She  had  caught  only  a  few  words,  spoken  by  a  youth 
whose  back  was  turned  to  her,  and  who  had  not  seen  her. 

"And  to  think  that  she  was  clothed  in  satin!"  he 
said. 

Instantly  a  young  girl  gave  him  a  push  that  silenced 
him,  then,  glancing  round,  he  saw  Katrina  just  behind 
him  and  his  face  went  red  as  blood;  but  immediately 
after  he  tossed  his  head,  and  said  in  a  loud  voice: 

"What's  the  matter  with  you?  Why  can't  I  be 
allowed  to  say  that  the  queen  was  arrayed  in  satin?" 

When  he  said  that  the  young  people  laughed  louder 
than  ever.  Then  Katrina  went  her  way,  unable  to 
bring  herself  to  question  them.  And  when  she  came 
home  she  was  so  unhappy  that  Jan  was  almost  tempted 
to  come  out  with  the  truth  about  Glory  Goldie;  but 
on  second  thought,  he  asked  her  to  tell  him  again  what 
had  been  said  about  the  queen. 

Katrina  did   so,  but  added:  "You  understand  of 


154     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

course  that  that  was  only  said  to  sweeten  the  pill  for 
me." 

Jan  meanwhile  kept  mum.  But  he  could  not  help 
smiling  to  himself. 

"What  are  you  thinking  about?"  asked  Katrina. 
"You  have  such  a  queer  look  on  your  face  these  days. 
You  don't  know  what  they  meant,  do  you?" 

"I  certainly  don't,"  answered  Jan.  "But  we  ought 
to  have  enough  confidence  in  the  little  girl  to  think  all 
is  as  it  should  be." 

"But  I'm  getting  so  anxious " 

"The  time  to  speak,"  Jan  struck  in,  "has  not  come, 
either  for  them  or  me.  Glory  Goldie  herself  has 
probably  requested  them  not  to  say  anything  to  us. 
So  we  must  rest  easy,  Katrina,  indeed  we  must." 


STARS 

WHEN  the  little  girl  had  been  gone  nearly  eight 
months,  who  should  come  stalking  into  the 
barn  at  Falla  one  fine  day,  while  Jan  stood 
threshing  there,  but  Mad  Ingeborg! 

Mad  Ingeborg  was  first  cousin  to  Jan.  But  as  she 
was  afraid  of  Katrina  he  seldom  saw  her.  It  was  to 
escape  meeting  Jan's  wife  that  she  had  sought  him  out 
at  Falla  during  his  work  hours. 

Jan  was  none  too  pleased  to  see  Ingeborg!  She  was 
not  exactly  insane,  but  flighty — and  a  terrible  chatterer. 
He  went  right  on  with  his  work,  taking  no  notice  of  her. 

"Stop  your  threshing,  Jan!"  she  said,  "so  that  I  can 
tell  you  what  I  dreamed  about  you  last  night." 

"You'd  better  come  some  other  time,  Ingeborg,"  Jan 
suggested.  "If  Lars  Gunnarson  hears  that  I'm  resting 
from  my  workhe'll  be  sure  to  come  over  to  see  what's  up." 

"I'll  be  as  quick  as  quick  can  be.  If  you  remember,  I 
was  the  brightest  child  in  our  family,  which  doesn't  give 
me  much  to  brag  about,  as  the  rest  of  you  were  a  dull  lot." 

155 


'iS6      THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

"You  were  going  to  tell  me  about  a  dream,"  Jan  re- 
minded her. 

"In  a  minute — a  minute!  You  mustn't  be  afraid. 
I  understand — understand:  hard  master  now  at  Falla — 
hard  master.  But  don't  be  uneasy,  for  you'll  not  be 
scolded  on  my  account.  There's  no  danger  of  that 
when  you're  with  a  sensible  person  like  me." 

Jan  would  have  liked  to  hear  what  she  dreamed  about 
him,  for  confident  as  he  was  of  the  ultimate  realization 
of  his  great  expectations,  he  nevertheless  sought  as- 
surances from  all  quarters.  But  now  Mad  Ingeborg 
was  wandering  along  her  own  thought-road  and  at  such 
times  it  was  not  easy  to  stop  her.  She  went  very  close 
to  Jan,  then,  bending  over  him,  her  eyes  shut  tight,  her 
head  shaking,  the  words  came  pouring  out  of  her  mouth. 

"Don't  be  so  scared.  Do  you  suppose  I'd  be  stand- 
ing here  talking  to  you  while  you're  threshing  at  Falla 
if  I  didn't  know  the  master  had  gone  up  to  the  forest 
and  the  mistress  was  down  at  the  village  selling  butter. 
'Always  keep  them  in  mind,'  says  the  catechism.  I 
know  enough  for  that  and  take  good  care  not  to  come 
round  when  they  can  see  me." 

"Get  out  of  the  way,  Ingeborg!  Otherwise  the  flail 
might  hit  you." 


STARS  IS7 

"Think  how  you  boys  used  to  beat  me  when  we  were 
children!'*  she  rattled  on.  "Even  now  I  have  to  take 
thrashings.  But  when  it  came  to  catechism  examina- 
tions, I  could  beat  you  all.  *No  one  can  catch  Ingeborg 
napping,'  the  dean  used  to  say.  'She  always  knows  her 
lessons.'  And  I'm  good  friends  with  the  little  misses  at 
Lovdala  Manor.  I  recite  the  catechism  for  them — both 
questions  and  answers — from  beginning  to  end.  And 
what  a  memory  I've  got!  I  know  the  whole  Bible  by 
heart  and  the  hymn  book,  too,  and  all  the  dean's 
sermons.  Shall  I  recite  something  for  you,  or  would 
you  rather  hear  me  sing?" 

Jan  said  nothing  whatever,  but  went  to  threshing 
again.  Ingeborg,  undaunted,  seated  herself  on  a  sheaf 
of  straw  and  struck  up  a  chant  of  some  twenty  stanzas, 
then  she  repeated  a  couple  of  chapters  from  the  Bible, 
whereupon  she  got  up  and  went  out.  Jan  thought  she 
had  gone  for  good,  but  in  a  little  while  she  reappeared 
in  the  doorway  of  the  barn. 

"Hold  still!"  she  whispered.  "Hold  still!  Now 
we'll  say  nothing  but  what  we  were  going  to  say.  Only 
be  still— still!" 

Then  up  went  her  forefinger.  Now  she  held  her  body 
rigid  and  her  eyes  open.     "No  other  thoughts,  no  other 


iS8     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

thoughts!"  she  said.  "We'll  keep  to  the  subject. 
Only  hush  your  pounding!" 

She  waited  till  Jan  minded  her. 

"You  came  to  me  last  night  in  a  dream — yes,  that  was 
it.  You  came  to  me  and  I  says  to  you  like  this :  'Are  you 
out  for  a  walk,  Jan  of  the  Ashdales?'  *  Yes,'  says  you, 
*but  now  I'm  Jan  of  the  Vale  of  Longings.'  'Then,  well 
met,'  says  I.     ^There's  where  I  have  lived  all  my  life.'" 

Whereupon  she  disappeared  again,  and  Jan,  startled 
by  her  strange  words,  did  not  immediately  resume  his 
work,  but  stood  pondering.  In  a  moment  or  two 
she  was  there  again. 

"I  remember  now  what  brought  me  here,"  she  told 
him.     "I  wanted  to  show  you  my  stars." 

On  her  arm  was  a  small  covered  basket  bound  with 
cord,  and  while  she  tugged  and  pulled  at  a  knot,  to 
loosen  it,  she  chattered  like  a  magpie. 

"They  are  real  stars,  these.  When  one  lives  in  the 
Vale  of  Longings  one  isn't  satisfied  with  the  things  of 
earth;  then  one  is  compelled  to  go  out  and  look  for 
stars.  There  is  no  other  choice.  Now  you,  too,  will 
have  to  go  in  search  of  them." 

"No,  no,  Ingeborg!"  returned  Jan.  "I'll  confine  my 
search  to  what  is  to  be  found  on  this  earth." 


STARS  159 

"For  goodness  sake  hush ! "  cried  the  woman.  "You 
don't  suppose  I'm  such  a  fool  as  to  go  ahunting  for  those 
which  remain  in  the  heavens,  do  you  ?  I  only  seek  the 
kind  that  have  fallen.     I've  got  some  sense,  I  guess!" 

She  opened  her  basket  which  was  filled  with  a  variety 
of  stars  she  had  evidently  picked  up  at  the  manors. 
There  were  tin  stars  and  glass  stars  and  paper  stars — 
ornaments  from  Christmas  trees  and  confectionery. 

"They  are  real  stars  fallen  from  the  sky,"  she  de- 
clared. "You  are  the  only  person  I've  shown  them  to. 
I'll  let  you  have  a  couple  whenever  you  need  them." 

"Thanks,  Ingeborg,"  said  Jan.  "When  the  time 
comes  that  I  shall  have  need  of  stars — which  may  be 
right  soon — I  don't  think  I'll  ask  you  for  them." 

Then  at  last  Mad  Ingeborg  left. 

It  was  some  little  time,  however,  before  Jan  went 
back  to  his  threshing.  To  him  this,  too,  was  a  finger- 
pointing.  Not  that  a  crack-brained  person  like  Inge- 
borg could  know  anything  of  Glory  Goldie's  movements; 
but  she  was  one  of  the  kind  who  sensed  it  in  the  air 
when  something  extraordinary  was  going  to  happen. 
She  could  see  and  hear  things  of  which  wise  folk  never 
had  an  inkling. 


WAITING 

ENGINEER  Boraeus  of  Borg  was  in  the  habit 
of  strolling  down  to  the  pier  mornings  to  meet 
the  steamer.  He  had  only  a  short  distance  to 
go,  through  his  beautiful  pine  grove,  and  there  was 
always  some  one  on  the  boat  with  whom  he  could  ex- 
change a  few  words  to  vary  the  monotony  of  country 
life. 

At  the  end  of  the  grove,  where  the  road  began  an 
abrupt  descent  to  the  pier,  were  some  large  bare  rocks 
upon  which  folk  who  had  come  from  a  distance  used 
to  sit  while  waiting  for  the  boat.  And  there  were  al- 
ways many  who  waited  at  the  Borg  pier,  as  there  was 
never  any  certainty  as  to  when  the  boat  would  arrive. 
It  seldom  put  in  before  twelve  o'clock,  and  yet  once  in  a 
while  it  reached  the  pier  as  early  as  eleven.  Sometimes 
it  did  not  come  until  one  or  two;  so  that  prompt  people, 
who  were  down  at  the  landing  by  ten  o'clock,  often  had 
to  sit  there  for  hours. 

Engineer  Boraeus  had  a  good  outlook  over  Lake  Loven 

i6o 


WAITING  i6i 

from  his  chamber  window  at  Borg.  He  could  see  when 
the  steamer  rounded  the  point  and  never  appeared  at 
the  landing  until  just  in  the  nick  of  time.  Therefore  he 
did  not  have  to  sit  on  the  rocks  and  wait,  and  would 
only  cast  a  glance,  in  passing,  at  those  who  were  seated 
there.  However,  one  summer,  he  noticed  a  meek- 
looking  Httle  man  with  a  kindly  face  sitting  there 
waiting  day  after  day.  The  man  always  sat  quite  still, 
seemingly  indifferent,  until  the  boat  hove  in  sight. 
Then  he  would  jump  to  his  feet,  his  face  shining  with 
joyous  anticipation,  and  rush  down  the  incline  to  the  far 
end  of  the  pier,  where  he  would  stand  as  if  about  to  wel- 
come some  one.  But  nobody  ever  came  for  him.  And 
when  the  boat  pulled  out  he  was  as  alone  as  before. 
Then,  as  he  turned  to  go  home,  the  light  of  happiness 
gone  from  his  face,  he  looked  old  and  worn;  he  seemed 
hardly  able  to  drag  himself  up  the  hill. 

Engineer  Boreaus  was  not  acquainted  with  the  man. 
But  one  day  when  he  again  saw  him  sitting  there 
gazing  out  upon  the  lake,  he  went  up  and  spoke  to 
him.  He  soon  learned  that  the  man's  daughter,  who 
had  been  away  for  a  time,  was  expected  home  that 
day. 

"Are  you  quite  certain  she  is  coming  to-day.^"  said 


i62     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

the  engineer.  "I've  seen  you  sitting  here  waiting  every 
day  for  the  past  two  months.  In  that  case  she  must 
have  sent  you  wrong  instructions  before." 

"Oh,  no,"  repHed  the  man  quietly,  "indeed  she 
hasn't  given  me  any  wrong  instructions!" 

"Then  what  in  the  name  of  God  do  you  mean.?" 
demanded  the  engineer  gruffly,  for  he  was  a  choleric 
man.  "You've  sat  here  and  waited  day  after  day  with- 
out her  coming,  yet  you  say  she  has  not  given  you 
wrong  instructions." 

"No,"  answered  the  meek  little  man,  looking  up  at 
the  engineer  with  his  mild,  limpid  eyes,  "she  couldn't 
have,  as  she  has  not  sent  any  instructions." 

"Hasn't  she  written  to  you.?" 

"No;  we've  had  no  letter  from  her  since  the  first  day 
of  last  October." 

"Then  why  do  you  idle  away  your  mornings  down 
here?"  asked  the  engineer,  wonderingly.  "Can  you 
afford  to  leave  off  working  like  this  ?" 

"No,"  replied  the  man,  smiling  to  himself.  "I  sup- 
pose it's  wrong  in  me  to  do  so;  but  all  that  will  soon 
be  made  good." 

"Is  it  possible  that  you're  such  a  stupid  ass  as  to 
hang  round  here  when  there's  no  occasion  for  it?"  roared 


WAITING  163 

the  engineer,  furiously.  "You  ought  to  be  shut  up  in 
a  madhouse." 

The  man  said  nothing.  He  sat  with  his  hands  clasped 
round  his  knees,  quite  unperturbed.  A  smile  played 
about  his  mouth  all  the  while,  andevery  second  he  seemed 
more  and  more  confident  of  his  ultimate  triumph. 

The  engineer  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  walked  away, 
but  before  he  was  halfway  down  the  hill  he  repented 
his  harshness,  and  turned  back.  The  stern  forbidding 
look  which  his  strong  features  habitually  wore  was  now 
gone  and  he  put  out  his  hand  to  the  man. 

"I  want  to  shake  hands  with  you,'*  he  said.  "Until 
now  I  had  always  thought  that  I  was  the  only  one  in 
this  parish  who  knew  what  it  was  to  yearn;  but  now  I 
see  that  I  have  found  my  master." 


THE  EMPRESS 

THE  little  girl  of  Ruffluck  had  been  away  fully 
thirteen  months,  yet  Jan  had  not  betrayed  by 
so  much  as  a  word  that  he  had  any  knowledge 
of  the  great  thing  that  had  come  to  her.  He  had  vowed 
to  himself  never  to  speak  of  this  until  Glory  Goldie's 
return.  If  the  little  girl  did  not  discover  that  he  knew 
about  her  grandeur,  her  pleasure  in  overwhelming  him 
would  be  all  the  greater. 

But  in  this  world  of  ours  it  is  the  unexpected  that 
happens  mostly.  There  came  a  day  when  Jan  was 
forced  to  unseal  his  lips  and  tell  what  he  knew.  Not  on 
his  own  account.  Indeed  not!  For  he  would  have 
been  quite  content  to  go  about  in  his  shabby  clothes 
and  let  folks  think  him  nothing  but  a  poor  crofter 
to  the  end  of  his  days.  It  was  for  the  Httle  girl's 
own  sake  that  he  felt  compelled  to  reveal  the  great 
secret. 

It  happened  one  day,  early  in  August,  when  he  had 
gone  down  to  the  pier  to  watch  for  her.     For  you  see, 

164 


THE  EMPRESS  165 

going  down  to  meet  the  boat  every  day  that  he  might 
see  her  come  ashore,  was  a  pleasure  he  had  been  unable 
to  deny  himself.  The  boat  had  just  put  in  and  he  had 
seen  that  Glory  Goldie  was  not  on  board.  He  had  sup- 
posed that  she  would  be  finished  with  everything  now 
and  could  leave  for  home.  But  some  new  hindrance 
must  have  arisen  to  detain  her,  as  had  been  the  case  all 
summer.  It  was  not  easy  for  one  who  had  so  many  de- 
mands upon  her  time  to  get  away. 

Anyhow  it  was  a  great  pity  she  did  not  come  to-day, 
thought  Jan,  when  there  were  so  many  of  her  old  ac- 
quaintances at  the  pier.  There  stood  both  Senator 
Carl  Carlson  and  August  Dar  Nol.  Bjorn  Hindrick- 
son's  son-in-law  was  also  on  hand,  and  even  Agrippa 
Prastberg  had  turned  out. 

Agrippa  had  nursed  a  grievance  against  the  little 
girl  since  the  day  she  fooled  him  about  the  spectacles. 
Jan  had  to  admit  to  himself  that  it  would  have  been  a 
great  triumph  for  him  had  Glory  Goldie  stood  on  the 
boat  that  day  in  all  her  pomp  and  splendour,  so  that 
Prastberg  could  have  seen  her.  However,  since  she 
had  not  come,  there  was  nothing  for  him  but  to  go  back 
home.  As  he  was  about  to  leave  the  pier  cantankerous 
old  Agrippa  barred  his  way. 


i66     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

"Well,  well!"  said  Agrippa.  "So  you*re  running 
down  here  after  that  daughter  of  yours  to-day,  too?" 

Jan  knowing  it  was  best  not  to  bandy  words  with  a 
man  like  Agrippa,  simply  stepped  to  one  side,  so  as  to 
get  by  him. 

"I  declare  I  don't  wonder  at  your  wanting  to  meet 
such  a  fine  lady  as  she  has  turned  out  to  be!"  said 
Agrippa  with  a  leer. 

Just  then  August  Dar  Nol  rushed  up  and  seized 
Agrippa  by  the  arm,  to  silence  him.  But  Agrippa  was 
not  to  be  silenced. 

"The  whole  parish  knows  of  it,"  he  shouted,  "so  it's 
high  time  her  parents  were  told  of  her  doings!  Jan 
Anderson  is  a  decent  fellow,  even  if  he  did  spoil  that 
girl  of  his,  and  I  can't  bear  to  see  him  sit  here  day  after 
day,  week  in  and  week  out,  waiting  for  a " 

He  called  the  little  girl  of  Ruffluck  such  a  bad  name 
that  Jan  would  not  repeat  it  even  in  his  thoughts.  But 
now  that  Agrippa  had  flung  that  ugly  word  at  him  in  a 
loud  voice,  so  that  every  one  on  the  pier  heard  what  he 
said,  all  that  Jan  had  kept  locked  within  him  for  a  whole 
year  burst  its  bonds.  He  could  no  longer  keep  it  hid- 
den. The  little  girl  must  forgive  him  for  betraying  her 
secret.     He  said  what  he  had  to  say  without  the  least 


THE  EMPRESS  167 

show  of  anger  or  boastfulness.  With  a  sweep  of  his 
hand  and  a  lofty  smile,  as  if  hardly  deigning  to  answer, 
he  said: 

"When  the  Empress  comes " 

"The  Empress!"  grinned  Agrippa.  "Who  might 
that  be?"  Just  as  if  he  had  not  heard  about  the  little 
girl's  elevation. 

Jan  of  Ruffluck,  unperturbed,  continued  in  the  same 
calm,  even  tone  of  voice: 

"When  the  Empress  Glory  of  Portugallia  stands  on 
the  pier,  with  a  crown  of  gold  upon  her  head,  and  with 
seven  kings  behind  her  holding  up  her  royal  mantle,  and 
seven  tame  lions  crouched  at  her  feet,  and  seven  and 
seventy  generals,  with  drawn  swords,  going  before  her, 
then  we  shall  see,  Prastberg,  whether  you  dare  say  to 
herself  what  you've  just  said  to  me!" 

When  he  had  finished  speaking  he  stood  still  a  mo- 
ment, noting  with  satisfaction  how  terrified  they  looked, 
all  of  them;  then,  turning  on  his  heel,  he  walked  away, 
but  without  hurry  or  flurry,  of  course. 

The  instant  his  back  was  turned  there  was  a  terrible 
commotion  on  the  pier.  At  first  he  paid  no  attention  to 
it,  but  presently,  on  hearing  a  heavy  thud,  he  had  to  look 
back.     Then   he  saw  Agrippa  lying  flat  on  his  face 


i68     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

and  August  Dar  Nol  bending  over  him  with  clenched 
fists. 

"You  cur!"  cried  August.  "You  knew  well  enough 
that  he  couldn't  stand  hearing  the  truth.  You  can't 
have  any  heart  in  your  body!" 

This  much  Jan  heard,  but  as  anything  in  the  way  of 
fighting  or  quarrelling  was  contrary  to  his  nature,  he 
went  on  up  the  hill,  without  mixing  in  the  fray. 

But  strangely  enough,  when  he  was  out  of  every  one's 
sight  an  uncontrollable  spell  of  weeping  came  over  him. 
He  did  not  know  why  he  wept,  but  probably  his  tears 
were  of  joy  at  having  cleared  up  the  mystery.  He  felt 
now  as  if  his  Httle  girl  had  come  back  to  him. 


THE  EMPEROR 

THE  first  Sunday  in  September  the  worshippers 
at  Svartsjo  church  had  a  surprise  in  store  for 
them. 

There  was  a  wide  gallery  in  the  church  extending  clear 
across  the  nave.  The  first  row  of  pews  in  this  gallery 
had  always  been  occupied  by  the  gentry — the  gentle- 
men on  the  right  side  and  the  ladies  on  the  left — as  far 
back  as  can  be  remembered.  All  the  seats  in  the 
church  were  free,  so  that  other  folk  were  not  debarred 
from  sitting  there,  if  they  so  wished;  but  of  course  it 
would  never  have  occurred  to  any  poor  cotter  to  en- 
sconce himself  in  that  row  of  pews. 

In  the  old  days  Jan  had  thought  the  occupants  of  this 
particular  bench  a  delight  to  the  eye.  Even  now  he 
was  willing  to  concede  that  the  superintendent  from 
Doveness,  the  lieutenant  from  Lovdala,  and  the  en- 
gineer from  Borg  were  fine  men  who  made  a  good  ap- 
pearance. But  they  were  as  nothing  to  the  grandeur 
which    folks    beheld  that  day.     For  anything  Hke   a 

169 


170     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

real  emperor  had  never  before  been  seen  in  the 
gentry's  bench. 

But  now  there  sat  at  the  head  of  this  bench  just 
such  a  great  personage,  his  hands  resting  on  a  long 
silver-mounted  stick,  his  head  crowned  with  a  high, 
green  leather  cap,  while  on  his  waistcoat  glittered  two 
large  stars,  one  like  gold,  the  other  like  silver. 

When  the  organ  began  to  play  the  processional  hymn 
the  Emperor  lifted  up  his  voice  in  song.  For  an 
emperor  is  obliged  to  sing  out,  loud  and  clear,  when  at 
church,  even  if  he  cannot  follow  the  melody  or  sing  in 
tune.     Folks  are  glad  to  hear  him  in  any  case. 

The  gentlemen  at  his  left  now  and  then  turned  and 
stared  at  him.  Who  could  wonder  at  that?  It  was 
probably  the  first  time  they  had  had  so  exalted  a  per- 
sonage among  them. 

He  had  to  remove  his  hat,  of  course,  for  that  is  some- 
thing which  even  an  emperor  must  do  when  attending 
divine  service;  but  he  kept  it  on  as  long  as  possible, 
that  all  might  feast  their  eyes  on  it. 

And  many  of  the  worshippers  who  sat  in  the  body  of 
the  church  had  their  eyes  turned  up  toward  the  gallery 
that  Sunday.  Their  thoughts  seemed  to  be  on  him 
more  than  on  the  sermon.     They  were  perhaps  a  little 


THE  EMPEROR  171 

surprised  that  he  had  become  so  exalted.  But  surely 
they  could  understand  that  one  who  was  father  to  an 
empress  must  himself  be  an  emperor.  Anything  else 
was  impossible. 

When  he  came  out  on  the  pine  knoll  at  the  close  of 
the  service  many  persons  went  up  xo  him;  but  before 
he  had  time  to  speak  to  a  soul  Sexton  Blackie  stepped 
up  and  asked  him  to  come  along  into  the  vestry. 

The  pastor  was  seated  in  the  vestry,  his  back  turned 
toward  the  door,  talking  with  Senator  Carl  Carlson, 
when  Jan  and  the  sexton  entered.  He  seemed  to  be  dis- 
tressed about  something,  for  there  were  tears  in  his  voice. 

"These  were  two  souls  entrusted  to  my  keeping 
whom  I  have  allowed  to  go  to  ruin,"  he  said. 

The  senator  tried  to  console  him,  saying:  "You  can't 
be  responsible.  Pastor,  for  the  evil  that  goes  on  in  the 
large  cities." 

But  the  clergyman  would  not  be  consoled.  He  covered 
his  beautiful  young  face  with  his  hands,  and  wept. 

"No,"  he  sobbed,,  "I  suppose  I  can't.  But  what 
have  I  done  to  guard  the  young  girl  who  was  thrown 
on  the  world,  unprotected?  And  what  have  I  done  to 
comfort  her  old  father  who  had  only  her  to  live  for?" 

"The  pastor  is  practically  a  newcomer  in  the  parish,** 


172     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

said  the  senator,  "so  that  if  there  is  any  question  of 
responsibiHty  it  falls  more  heavily  upon  the  rest  of 
us,  who  were  acquainted  with  the  circumstances.  But 
who  could  think  it  was  to  end  so  disastrously?  Young 
folk  have  to  make  their  own  way  in  life.  We've  all 
been  thrust  out  in  much  the  same  way,  yet  most  of 
us  have  fared  rather  well." 

"O  God  of  mercy!"  prayed  the  pastor,  "grant  me 
the  wisdom  to  speak  to  the  unhappy  father.  Would  I 
might  stay  his  fleeing  wits !" 

Sexton  Blackie,  standing  there  with  Jan,  now  cleared 
his  throat.  The  pastor  rose  at  once,  went  up  to  Jan, 
and  took  him  by  the  hand. 

"My  dear  Jan!"  he  said  feelingly.  The  pastor  was 
tall  and  fair  and  handsome.  When  he  came  up  to 
you,  with  his  kindly  blue  eyes  beaming  benevolence, 
and  spoke  to  you  in  his  deep  sympathetic  voice,  it  was 
not  easy  to  resist  him.  In  this  instance,  however,  the 
only  thing  to  do  was  to  set  him  right  at  the  start,  which 
Jan  did  of  course. 

"Jan  is  no  more,  my  good  Pastor,"  he  said.  "Now 
we  are  Emperor  Johannes  of  Portugallia,  and  he  who 
does  not  wish  to  address  us  by  our  proper  title,  him  we 
have  nothing  to  say  to." 


THE  EMPEROR  173 

With  that,  Jan  gave  the  pastor  a  stiff  imperial 
nod  of  dismissal,  and  put  on  his  cap.  They  looked 
rather  foolish,  did  the  three  men  who  stood  in  the 
vestry,  when  Jan  pushed  open  the  door  and  walked 
out. 


BOOK  THREE 


THE  EMPEROR'S  SONG 

IN  THE  wooded  heights  above  Loby  there  was  still 
a  short  stretch  of  an  old  country  road  where  in 
bygone  days  all  teams  had  to  pass,  but  which  was 
now  condemned  because  it  led  up  and  down  the  worst 
hills,  and  rocky  slopes  instead  of  having  the  sense  to  go 
round  them.  The  part  that  remained  was  so  steep  that 
no  one  in  driving  made  use  of  it  any  more  though  foot- 
farers  climbed  it  occasionally,  as  it  was  a  good  short  cut. 
The  road  ran  as  broad  as  any  of  the  regular  crown 
highways,  and  was  still  covered  with  fine  yellow  gravel. 
In  fact,  it  was  smoother  now  than  formerly,  being 
free  from  wheel  tracks,  and  mud,  and  dust.  Along  the 
edge  bloomed  roadside  flowers  and  shrubs;  dogwood, 
bittervetch,  and  buttercups  grew  there  in  profusion  even 
to  this  day,  but  the  ditches  were  filled  in  and  a  whole 
row  of  spruce  trees  had  sprung  up  in  them.  Young  ever- 
greens of  uniform  height,  with  branches  from  the  root 
up,  stood  pressing  against  each  other  as  closely  as  the 
foliage  of  a  boxwood  hedge;  their  needles  were  not  dry 

177 


178     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

and  hard,  but  moist  and  soft,  and  their  tips  were  all 
bright  with  fresh  green  shoots.  The  trees  sang  and 
played  like  humming  bees  on  a  fine  summer  day,  when 
the  sun  beams  down  upon  them  from  a  clear  sky. 

When  Jan  of  Ruffluck  walked  home  from  church  the 
Sunday  he  had  appeared  there  for  the  first  time  in  his 
royal  regalia,  he  turned  in  on  the  old  forest  road.  It  was 
a  warm  sunny  day  and,  as  he  went  up  the  hill,  he  heard 
the  music  of  the  spruces  so  plainly  that  it  astonished  him. 

Never  had  spruce  trees  sung  like  that!  It  struck  him 
that  he  ought  to  find  out  why  they  were  so  loud-voiced 
just  to-day.  And  being  in  no  special  haste  to  reach 
home,  he  dropped  down  in  the  middle  of  the  smooth 
gravel  road,  in  the  shade  of  the  singing  trees.  Laying  his 
stick  on  the  ground,  he  removed  his  cap  and  mopped 
his  brow,  then  he  sat  motionless,  with  hands  clasped, 
and  listened. 

The  air  was  quite  still,  therefore  it  could  hardly  have 
been  the  wind  that  had  set  all  these  little  musical  instru- 
ments into  motion.  It  was  almost  as  if  the  spruces 
played  for  very  joy  at  being  so  young  and  fresh;  at  being 
let  stand  in  peace  by  the  abandoned  roadside,  with  the 
promise  of  many  years  of  life  ahead  of  them  before  any 
human  being  would  come  and  cut  them  down. 


THE  EMPEROR'S  SONG  179 

But  if  such  was  the  case,  it  did  not  explain  why  the 
trees  sang  with  such  gusto  just  that  day;  they  could 
rejoice  over  those  particular  blessings  any  pleasant 
summer  day;  they  did  not  call  for  any  extra  music. 

Jan  sat  still  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  listening  with 
rapt  attention.  It  was  pleasant  hearing  the  hum  of  the 
spruce,  though  it  was  all  on  one  note,  with  no  rests, 
so  that  there  was  neither  melody  nor  rhythm  about  it. 

He  found  it  so  refreshing  and  delightful  up  here  on 
the  heights.  No  wonder  the  trees  felt  happy,  he  mused. 
The  wonder  was  they  sang  and  played  no  better  than 
they  did.  He  looked  up  at  their  small  twigs  on  which 
every  needle  was  fine  and  well  made,  and  in  its  proper 
place,  and  drank  in  the  piney  odour  that  came  from  them. 
There  was  no  flower  of  the  meadow,  no  blossom  of  the 
grove  so  fragrant!  He  noted  their  half-grown  cones  on 
which  the  scales  were  compactly  massed  for  the  pro- 
tection of  the  seed. 

These  trees,  which  seemed  to  understand  so  well 
what  to  do  for  themselves,  ought  to  be  able  to  sing  and 
play  so  that  one  could  comprehend  what  they  meant. 
Yet  they  kept  harping  all  the  while  on  the  same  strain. 
He  grew  drowsy  listening  to  them,  and  stretched  him- 
self flat  on  the  smooth,  fine  gravel  to  take  a  little  nap. 


i8o     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

But  hark!  What  was  this?  The  instant  his  head 
touched  the  ground  and  his  eyes  closed,  the  trees  struck 
up  something  new.  Ah,  now  there  came  rhythm  and 
melody! 

Then  all  that  other  was  only  a  prelude,  such  as  is 
played  at  church  before  the  hymn. 

This  was  what  he  had  felt  the  whole  time,  though  he 
had  not  wanted  to  say  it  even  in  his  mind.  The  trees 
also  knew  what  had  happened.  It  was  on  his  account 
they  tuned  up  so  loudly  the  instant  he  appeared.  And 
now  they  sang  of  him — there  was  no  mistaking  it — 
now,  when  they  thought  him  asleep.  Perhaps  they 
did  not  wish  him  to  hear  how  much  they  were  making 
of  him. 

And  what  a  song,  what  a  song!  He  lay  all  the  while 
with  his  eyes  shut,  but  could  hear  the  better  for  that. 
Not  a  sound  was  lost  to  him. 

Ah,  this  was  music!  It  was  not  just  the  young  trees 
at  the  edge  of  the  road  that  made  music  now,  but  the 
whole  forest.  There  were  organs  and  drums  and  trum- 
pets; there  were  little  thrush  flutes  and  bullfinch  pipes; 
there  were  gurgling  brooks  and  singing  water-sprites, 
tinkling  bluebells  and  thrumming  woodpeckers. 

Never  had  he  heard  anything  so  beautiful,  nor  lis- 


THE  EMPEROR'S  SONG  i8i 

tened  to  music  in  just  this  way.     It  rang  in  his  ears 
so  that  he  could  never  forget  it. 

When  the  song  was  finished  and  the  forest  grew  silent, 
he  sprang  to  his  feet  as  if  startled  from  a  dream.  Im- 
mediately he  began  to  sing  this  hymn  of  the  woods  so 
as  to  fix  it  forever  in  his  memory. 

The  Empress's  father,  for  his  part. 
Feels  so  happy  in  his  heart. 

Then  came  the  refrain,  which  he  had  not  been  able  to 
catch  word  for  word,  but  anyhow  he  sang  it  about  as  it 
had  sounded  to  him: 

Austria,  Portugal,  Metz,  Japan, 
Read  the  newspapers,  if  you  can. 
Boom,  boom,  boom,  and  roll. 
Boom,  boom. 

No  gun  be  his  but  a  sword  of  gold ; 

Now  a  crown  for  a  cap  on  his  head  behold! 

Austria,  Portugal,  Metz,  Japan, 

Read  the  newspapers,  if  you  can. 

Boom,  boom,  boom,  and  roll. 

Boom,  boom. 

Golden  apples  are  his  meat. 
No  more  of  turnips  shall  he  eat, 
Austria,  Portugal,  Metz,  Japan, 


i82     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

Read  the  newspapers,  if  you  can. 
Boom,  boom,  boom,  and  roll. 
Boom,  boom. 

Court  ladies  clothed  in  bright  array 
Bow  as  he  passes  on  his  way. 
Austria,  Portugal,  Metz,  Japan, 
Read  the  newspapers,  if  you  can. 
Boom,  boom,  boom,  and  roll. 
Boom,  boom. 

When  he  the  forest  proudly  treads, 
All  the  tree-tops  nod  their  heads. 
Austria,  Portugal,  Metz,  Japan, 
Read  the  newspapers,  if  you  can. 
Boom,  boom,  boom,  and  roll. 
Boom,  boom. 

It  was  just  this  "boom,  boom"  that  had  sounded 
best  of  all  to  him.  With  every  boom  he  struck  the 
ground  hard  with  his  stick  and  made  his  voice  as  deep 
and  strong  as  he  could.  He  sang  the  song  over  and 
over  again,  till  the  forest  fairly  rang  with  it. 

But  then  the  way  in  which  it  had  been  composed  was 
so  out  of  the  common!  And  the  fact  that  this  was  the 
first  and  only  time  in  his  life  he  had  been  able  to  catch 
and  carry  a  tune  was  in  itself  a  proof  of  its  merit. 


THE  SEVENTEENTH  OF  AUGUST 

THE  first  time  Jan  of  RufHuck  had  gone  to 
Lovdala  on  a  seventeenth  of  August  the  visit 
had  not  passed  off  as  creditably  for  him  as  he 
could  have  wished;  so  he  had  never  repeated  it,  although 
he  had  been  told  that  each  year  it  was  becoming  more 
lively  and  festive  at  the  Manor. 

But  now  that  the  little  girl  had  come  up  in  the  world, 
it  was  altogether  different  with  him.  He  felt  that 
it  would  be  a  great  disappointment  to  Lieutenant 
Liljecrona  if  so  exalted  a  personage  as  the  Emperor 
Johannes  of  Portugallia  did  not  do  him  the  honour  of 
wishing  him  happiness  on  his  birthday. 

So  he  donned  his  imperial  regalia  and  sallied  forth, 
taking  good  care  not  to  be  among  the  first  arrivals. 
For  him  who  was  an  emperor  it  was  the  correct  thing 
not  to  put  in  an  appearance  until  all  the  guests  had 
made  themselves  quite  at  home,  and  the  festivities 
were  well  under  way. 

Upon  the  occasion  of  his  former  visit  he  had  not 

183 


i84     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

ventured  farther  than  the  orchard  and  the  gravelled 
walk  in  front  of  the  house.  He  had  not  even  gone  up 
to  pay  his  respects  to  the  host.  But  now  he  could  not 
think  of  behaving  so  discourteously. 

This  time  he  made  straight  for  the  big  bower  at 
the  left  of  the  porch,  where  the  lieutenant  sat  with  a 
group  of  dignitaries  from  Svartsjo  and  elsewhere, 
grasped  him  by  the  hand,  and  wished  him  many  happy 
returns  of  the  day. 

"So  you've  come  out  to-day,  Jan,"  said  the  lieutenant 
in  a  tone  of  surprise. 

To  be  sure  he  was  not  expecting  an  honour  like  this, 
which  probably  accounted  for  his  so  far  forgetting  him- 
self as  to  address  the  Emperor  by  his  old  name.  Jan 
knew  that  so  genial  a  man  as  the  lieutenant  could  have 
meant  no  offense  by  that,  therefore  he  corrected  him 
in  all  meekness. 

"We  must  make  allowances  for  the  lieutenant,"  he 
said,  "since  this  is  his  birthday;  but  by  rights  we  should 
be  called  Emperor  Johannes  of  Portugallia." 

Jan  spoke  in  the  gentlest  tone  possible,  but  just  the 
same  the  other  gentlemen  all  laughed  at  the  lieutenant 
for  having  made  such  a  bad  break.  Jan  had  never  in- 
tended to  cause  him  humiliation  on  his  birthday,  so  he 


THE  SEVENTEENTH  OF  AUGUST      185 

promptly  dismissed  the  matter  and  turned  to  the  others. 
Raising  his  cap  with  an  imperial  flourish,  he  said: 

"Go '-day,  go '-day,  my  worthy  Generals  and  Bishops 
and  Governors."  It  was  his  intention  to  go  around  and 
shake  hands  with  everybody,  as  one  is  expected  to  do  at 
a  party. 

Nearest  the  lieutenant  sat  a  short,  stocky  man  in  a 
white  cloth  jacket,  with  a  gold-trimmed  collar,  and  a 
sword  at  his  side,  who,  when  Jan  stepped  up  to  greet 
him  did  not  offer  his  whole  hand,  but  merely  held  out 
two  fingers.  The  man's  intentions  may  have  been  all 
right,  but  of  course  a  potentate  like  Emperor  Johannes 
of  Portugallia  knew  he  must  stand  upon  his  dignity. 

"I  think  you  will  have  to  give  me  your  whole  hand, 
my  good  Bishop  and  Governor,"  he  said  very  pleas- 
antly, for  he  did  not  want  to  disturb  the  harmony  on 
this  great  day. 

Then,  mind  you,  the  man  turned  up  his  nose! 

"I  have  just  heard  it  was  not  to  your  liking  that 
Liljecrona  called  you  by  name,"  he  observed,  "and  I 
wonder  how  you  can  have  the  audacity  to  say  du*  to 
me!"  Then,  pointing  to  three  poor  little  yellow  stars 
that  were  attached  to  his  coat,  he  roared:  "See  these?" 

*Du  like  the  French  "tu"  is  used  only  in  addressing  intimates. 


i86     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

When  remarks  of  this  kind  were  flung  at  him,  the 
Emperor  Johannes  thought  it  high  time  to  lay  off  his 
humility.  He  quickly  flipped  back  his  coat,  exhibiting 
a  waistcoat  covered  with  large  showy  "medals"  of 
"silver"  and  "gold."  He  usually  kept  his  coat  but- 
toned over  these  decorations  as  they  were  easily 
tarnished,  and  crushable.  Besides,  he  knew  that  people 
always  felt  so  ill  at  ease  when  in  the  presence  of  ex- 
alted personages  and  he  had  no  desire  to  add  to  their 
embarrassment  by  parading  his  grandeur  when  there  was 
no  occasion  for  it.     Now,  however,  it  had  to  be  done. 

" Look  here,  you ! "  he  said.  " This  is  what  you  ought 
to  show  if  you  want  to  brag.  Three  paltry  little  stars — 
pooh!  that's  nothing!" 

Then  you  had  better  believe  the  man  showed  proper 
respect!  The  fact  that  all  who  knew  about  the  Em- 
press and  the  Empire  were  laughing  themselves  sick 
at  the  Major  General  must  have  had  its  effect, 
also. 

"By  cracky!"  he  ejaculated,  rising  to  his  feet  and 
bowing.  "If  it  isn*t  a  real  monarch  that  I  have  before 
me!  Your  Majesty  even  knows  how  to  respond  to  a 
speech." 

"That's  easy  when  you  know  how  to  meet  people," 


THE  SEVENTEENTH  OF  AUGUST      187 

retorted  the  other.  After  that  no  gentleman  in  the 
party  was  so  glad  to  be  allowed  to  talk  to  the  ruler 
of  Portugallia  as  was  this  very  man,  who  had  been  so 
high  and  mighty  at  first  that  he  would  not  present  more 
than  two  fingers,  when  an  emperor  had  offered  him  his 
whole  hand. 

It  need  hardly  be  said  that  none  of  the  others  seated 
in  the  bower  refused  to  accord  the  Emperor  a  fitting 
greeting.  Now  that  the  first  feeling  of  surprise  and 
embarrassment  had  passed  and  the  men  were  beginning 
to  perceive  that  he  was  not  a  difficult  person  to  get  on 
with,  emperor  though  he  was,  they  were  as  eager  as  was 
every  one  else  to  hear  all  about  the  little  girl's  rise  to 
royal  honours  and  her  prospective  return  to  her  home 
parish.  At  last  he  was  on  so  friendly  a  footing  with 
them  all  that  he  even  consented  to  sing  for  them  the 
song  he  had  learned  in  the  forest. 

This  was  perhaps  too  great  a  condescension  on  his 
part,  but  since  they  were  all  so  glad  for  every  word  he 
uttered  he  could  not  deny  them  the  pleasure  of  hearing 
him  sing,  also. 

And  when  he  raised  his  voice  in  song  imagine  the  con- 
sternation! Then  his  audience  was  not  confined  to  the 
group  of  elderly  gentlemen  in  the  bower.     For  immedi- 


i88     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

ately  the  old  countesses  and  the  old  wives  of  the  old  gen- 
erals who  had  been  sitting  on  the  big  sofa  in  the  draw- 
ing room,  sipping  tea  and  eating  bonbons,  and  the 
young  barons  and  young  Court  ladies  who  had  been 
dancing  in  the  ballroom,  all  came  rushing  out  to  hear 
him  and  all  eyes  were  fixed  on  him,  which  was  quite  the 
proper  thing,  as  he  was  an  emperor. 

The  like  of  that  song  they  had  never  heard,  of  course, 
and  as  soon  as  he  had  sung  it  through  they  wanted 
him  to  sing  it  again.  He  hesitated  a  good  while — for 
one  must  never  be  too  obliging  in  such  matters — but 
they  would  not  be  satisfied  until  he  had  yielded  to  their 
importunities.  And  this  time,  when  he  came  to  the 
refrain,  they  all  joined  in,  and  when  he  got  to  the 
"boom,  boom"  the  young  barons  beat  time  with  their 
feet  and  the  young  Court  ladies  clapped  their  hands  to 
the  measure  of  the  tune. 

But  that  was  a  wonderful  lay!  As  he  sang  it  again 
and  again,  with  so  many  smartly  dressed  people  chiming 
in;  so  many  pretty  young  ladies  darting  him  glances  of 
approval;  so  many  young  swains  shouting  bravo  after 
every  verse,  he  felt  as  dizzy  as  if  he  had  been  dancing. 
It  was  as  if  some  one  had  taken  him  in  their  arms  and 
Hfted  him  into  the  air. 


THE  SEVENTEENTH  OF  AUGUST      189 

He  did  not  lose  his  head,  though,  but  knew  all  the 
while  that  his  feet  were  still  on  the  earth.  Meantime, 
he  had  the  pleasant  sensation  of  being  elevated  far 
above  every  one.  On  the  one  hand,  he  was  being  borne 
up  by  the  honour,  on  the  other  by  the  glory.  They 
bore  him  away  on  strong  wings  and  placed  him  upon  an 
imperial  throne,  far,  far  away  amongst  the  rosy  evening 
clouds. 

There  was  but  one  thing  wanting.  Think,  if  the 
great  Empress,  his  little  Glory  Goldie,  had  only  been 
there,  too ! 

Instantly  this  thought  flashed  upon  him,  a  red  shim- 
mer passed  before  his  eyes.  Gazing  at  it  more  intently, 
he  saw  that  it  emanated  from  a  young  girl  in  a  red 
frock  who  had  just  come  out  from  the  house,  and  was 
then  standing  on  the  porch. 

The  young  girl  was  tall  and  graceful  and  had  a  wealth 
of  gold-yellow  hair.  From  where  he  stood  he  could  not 
see  her  face,  but  he  thought  she  could  be  none  other 
than  Glory  Goldie.  Then  he  knew  why  he  had  been 
so  blissfully  happy  that  evening;  it  was  just  a  foretoken 
of  the  little  girl's  nearness.  Breaking  off  in  the  middle 
of  his  song  and  pushing  aside  all  who  stood  in  his  way, 
he  ran  toward  the  house. 


190     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

When  he  reached  the  steps  he  was  obliged  to  halt. 
His  heart  thumped  so  violently  it  seemed  ready  to 
burst.  But  gradually  he  recovered  just  enough  strength 
to  be  able  to  proceed.  Very  slowly  he  mounted  step 
by  step  till  at  last  he  was  on  the  porch.  Then, 
spreading  out  his  arms,  he  whispered : 

"Glory  Goldie!" 

Instantly  the  young  girl  turned  round.  It  was  not 
Glory  Goldie!  A  strange  woman  stood  there,  staring 
at  him  in  astonishment. 

Not  a  word  could  he  utter,  but  tears  sprang  to  his 
eyes;  he  could  not  hold  them  back.  Now  he  faced 
about  and  staggered  down  the  steps.  Turning  his  back 
upon  all  the  merriment  and  splendour,  he  went  on  up 
the  driveway. 

The  people  kept  calling  for  him.  They  wanted  him 
to  come  back  and  sing  to  them  again.  But  he  heard 
them  not.  As  fast  as  he  could  go  he  hurried  toward 
the  woods,  where  he  could  be  alone  with  his  grief. 


KATRINA  AND  JAN 

JAN  of  Ruffluck  had  never  had  so  many  things 
to  think  about  and  ponder  over  as  now,  that 
he  had  become  an  emperor. 

In  the  first  place  he  had  to  be  very  guarded,  since 
greatness  had  been  thrust  upon  him,  so  as  not  to  let  pride 
get  the  upper  hand.  He  must  bear  in  mind  continually 
that  we  humans  were  all  made  from  the  same  material 
and  had  sprung  from  the  same  First  Parents;  that  we 
were  all  of  us  weak  and  sinful  and  at  bottom  one  person 
was  no  better  than  another. 

All  his  hfe  long  he  had  observed,  to  his  dismay,  how 

people  tried  to  lord  it  over  one  another,  and  of  course 

he  had  no  desire  to  do  likewise.     He  found,  however, 

that  it  was  not  an  easy  matter  for  one  who  had  become 

exalted  to  maintain  a  proper  humility.     His  greatest 

concern  was  that  he  might  perhaps  say  or  do  something 

that  would  cause  his  old  friends,  who  were  still  obliged 

to   pursue   their   humble   callings,   to   feel   themselves 

slighted  and  forgotten.     Therefore  he  deemed  it  best 

191 


192     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

when  attending  such  functions  as  dinners  and  parties — 
which  duty  demanded  of  him — never  to  mention  in 
the  hearing  of  these  people  the  great  distinction  that 
had  come  to  him.  He  could  not  blame  them  for  envy- 
ing him.  Indeed  not!  Just  the  same  he  felt  it  was 
wisest  not  to  make  them  draw  comparisons. 

And  of  course  he  could  not  ask  men  like  Borje  and 
the  seine-maker  to  address  him  as  Emperor.  Such  old 
friends  could  call  him  Jan,  as  they  had  always  done; 
for  they  could  never  bring  themselves  to  do  other- 
wise. 

But  the  one  whom  he  had  to  consider  before  all  others 
and  be  most  guarded  with  was  the  old  wife,  who  sat  at 
home  in  the  hut.  It  would  have  been  a  great  consola- 
tion to  him,  and  a  joy  as  well,  if  greatness  had  come  to 
her  also.  But  it  had  not.  She  was  the  same  as  of 
yore.  Anything  else  was  hardly  to  be  expected.  Glory 
Goldie  must  have  known  it  would  be  quite  impossible 
to  make  an  empress  of  Katrina.  One  could  not  im- 
agine the  old  woman  pinning  a  golden  coronet  on  her 
hair  when  going  to  church;  she  would  have  stayed  at 
home  rather  than  show  her  face  framed  in  anything 
but  the  usual  black  silk  headshawl. 

Katrina  had  declared  out  and  out  she  did  not  want 


KATRINA  AND  JAN  193 

to  hear  about  Glory  Goldie  being  an  empress.     On  the 
whole  it  was  perhaps  best  to  humour  her  in  this. 

But  one  can  understand  it  must  have  been  hard  for 
him  who  spent  his  mornings  at  the  pier,  surrounded  by 
admiring  throngs  of  people,  who  at  every  turn  addressed 
him  as  "Emperor,"  to  drop  his  royal  air  the  moment 
he  set  foot  in  his  own  house.  It  cannot  be  denied  that 
he  found  it  a  bit  irksome  having  to  fetch  wood  and 
water  for  Katrina  and  then  to  be  spoken  to  as  if  he  had 
gone  backward  in  life  instead  of  forward. 

If  Katrina  had  only  stopped  at  that  he  would  not 
have  minded  it,  but  she  even  complained  because  he 
would  not  go  out  to  work  now,  as  in  former  days.  When' 
she  came  with  such  things  he  always  turned  a  deaf  ear. 
As  if  he  did  not  know  that  the  Empress  of  Portugallia 
would  soon  send  him  so  much  money  that  he  need  never 
again  put  on  his  working  clothes!  He  felt  it  would  be 
an  insult  to  her  to  give  in  to  Katrina  on  this  point. 

One  afternoon,  toward  the  end  of  August,  as  Jan  was 
sitting  upon  the  flat  stone  in  front  of  the  hut,  smoking 
his  pipe,  he  glimpsed  some  bright  frocks  in  the  woods 
close  by,  and  heard  the  ring  of  youthful  voices. 

Katrina  had  just  gone  down  to  the  birch  grove  to  cut 


194     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

twigs  for  a  broom:  but  before  leaving  she  had  said  to 
Jan  that  hereafter  they  must  arrange  their  matters 
so  that  she  could  go  down  to  Falla  and  dig  ditches; 
he  might  stay  at  home  and  do  the  cooking  and  mend- 
ing, since  he  was  too  fine  now  to  work  for  others.  He 
had  not  said  a  word  in  retort,  but  all  the  same 
it  was  mighty  unpleasant  having  to  listen  to  such 
talk;  therefore  he  was  very  glad  that  he  could  turn 
his  thoughts  to  something  else.  Instantly  he  ran 
inside  for  his  imperial  cap  and  stick,  and  was  out 
again  and  down  at  the  gate  just  as  the  young  girls  came 
along. 

There  were  no  less  than  five  of  them  in  the  party,  the 
three  young  misses  from  Lovdala  and  two  strangers, 
who  were  evidently  guests  at  the  Manor. 

"Go'-day,  my  dear  Court  ladies,"  said  Jan  as  he 
swung  the  gate  wide  open  and  went  out  toward  them. 
"Go'-day,  my  dear  Court  ladies,"  he  repeated,  at  the 
same  time  making  such  a  big  sweep  with  his  cap  that  it 
almost  touched  the  ground. 

The  girls  stood  stockstill.  They  looked  a  bit  shy 
at  first,  but  he  soon  helped  them  over  their  momen- 
tary embarrassment. 

Then  it  was  *'good-day  "  and  "our  kind  Emperor."    It 


KATRINA  AND  JAN  195 

was  plain  they  were  really  glad  to  see  him  again.  These 
little  misses  were  not  like  Katrina  and  the  rest  of  the 
Ashdales  folk.  They  were  not  at  all  averse  to  hearing 
about  the  Empress  and  immediately  asked  him  if  Her 
Highness  was  well  and  if  she  was  not  expected  home 
soon. 

They  also  asked  if  they  might  be  allowed  to  step  into 
the  hut,  to  see  how  it  looked  inside.  That  he  could 
well  afford  to  let  them  do,  for  Katarina  always  kept  the 
house  so  clean  and  tidy  that  they  could  receive  callers 
there  at  any  time. 

When  the  young  misses  from  the  Manor  came  into  the 
house  they  were  no  doubt  surprised  that  the  great  Em- 
press had  grown  up  in  a  little  place  like  that.  It  may 
have  done  very  well  in  the  old  days,  when  she  was  used 
to  it,  they  said,  but  how  would  it  be  now  should  she 
come  back.?  Would  she  reside  here,  with  her  parents, 
or  return  to  Portugallia  ? 

Jan  had  thought  the  selfsame  things  himself,  and 
he  understood  of  course  that  Glory  Goldie  could  not 
settle  down  in  the  Ashdales  when  she  had  a  whole 
kingdom  to  rule  over. 

"The  chances  are  that  the  Empress  will  return  to 
Portugallia,"  he  replied. 


196     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

"Then  you  will  accompany  her,  I  suppose?"  said  one 
of  the  little  misses. 

Jan  would  rather  the  young  lady  had  not  questioned 
him  regarding  that  matter.  Nor  did  he  give  her  any 
reply  at  first,  but  she  was  persistent. 

"Possibly  you  don't  know  as  yet  how  it  will  be?"  she 
said. 

Oh,  yes,  he  knew  all  about  it,  only  he  was  not  quite 
sure  how  people  would  regard  his  decision.  Perhaps 
they  might  think  it  was  not  the  correct  thing  for  an 
emperor  to  do.  "I  shall  remain  at  home,"  he  told  her. 
"It  would  never  do  for  me  to  leave  Katrina." 

"So  Katrina  is  not  going  to  Portugallia ? " 

"No,"  he  answered.  "You  couldn't  get  Katrina 
away  from  the  hut,  and  I  shall  stay  right  here  with  her. 
You  see  when  one  has  promised  to  love  and  cherish  till 
death " 

"Yes,  I  understand  that  one  can't  break  that  vow." 
This  was  said  by  the  young  girl  who  seemed  most  eager 
to  know  about  everything.  "Do  you  hear  that,  all 
of  you?"  she  added.  "Jan  won't  leave  his  wife  though 
all  the  glories  of  Portugallia  are  tempting  him." 

And  think  of  it!  The  girls  were  very  glad  of  this. 
They  patted  him  on  the  back  and  told  him  he  did 


KATRINA  AND  JAN  197 

right.  That  was  a  favourable  sign,  they  said,  for  it 
showed  that  all  was  not  over  yet  with  good  old  Jan 
Anderson  of  Ruffluck  Croft. 

He  could  not  make  out  just  what  they  meant  by 
that;  but  probably  they  were  happy  to  think  the  par- 
ish was  not  going  to  lose  him. 

They  bade  him  good-bye  now,  saying  they  were  going 
over  to  Doveness  to  a  garden  party. 

They  had  barely  gone  when  Katrina  walked  in. 
She  must  have  been  standing  outside  the  door  listening. 
But  how  long  she  had  stood  there  or  how  much  she  had 
heard,  Jan  did  not  know.  Anyway,  she  looked  more 
amiable  and  serene  than  she  had  appeared  in  a  long 
while. 

**You*re  an  old  simpleton,"  she  told  him.  "I  won- 
der what  other  women  would  say  if  they  had  a  husband 
like  you?  But  still  it's  a  comfort  to  know  that  you 
don't  want  to  go  away  from  me." 


BJORN  HINDRICKSON'S  FUNERAL 

JAN  ANDERSON  of  Ruffluck  was  not  invited 
to  the  funeral  of  Bjom  Hindrickson  of  Loby. 
But  he  understood,  of  course,  that  the  family 
of  the  departed  had  not  been  quite  certain  that  he  would 
care  to  claim  kinship  with  them  now  that  he  had  risen 
to  such  glory  and  honour;  possibly  they  feared  it  might 
upset  their  arrangements  if  so  exalted  a  personage  as 
Johannes  of  Portugallia  were  to  attend  the  funeral. 

The  immediate  relatives  of  the  late  Bjorn  Hindrick- 
son naturally  wished  to  ride  in  the  first  carriage,  where 
by  rights  place  should  have  been  made  for  him  who  was 
an  emperor.  They  knew,  to  be  sure,  that  he  was  not 
over  particular  about  the  things  which  seem  to  count 
for  so  much  with  most  folks.  It  would  never  have 
occurred  to  him  to  stand  in  the  way  of  those  who  like 
to  sit  in  the  place  of  honour  at  special  functions.  There- 
fore, rather  than  cause  any  ill  feeling,  he  remained  away 
from  the  house  of  mourning  during  the  early  forenoon, 
before  the  funeral  procession  had  started,  and  went 

198 


BJORN  HINDRICKSON'S  FUNERAL      199 

direct  to  the  church.  Not  until  the  bells  had  begun  toll- 
ing and  the  long  procession  had  broken  up  on  church 
ground  did  he  take  his  place  among  his  relatives. 

When  they  saw  Jan  there  they  all  looked  a  little 
astonished;  but  now  he  was  so  accustomed  to  seeing 
folks  surprised  at  his  condescension  that  he  took  it  as  a 
matter  of  course.  No  doubt  they  would  have  liked  to 
place  him  at  the  head  of  the  Hne,  but  then  it  was  too 
late  to  do  so,  as  they  were  already  moving  toward  the 
churchyard. 

After  the  burial  service,  when  he  accompanied  the 
funeral  party  to  the  church  and  seated  himself  on 
the  mourners'  bench,  they  appeared  to  be  slightly 
embarrassed.  However,  there  was  no  time  to  comment 
upon  his  having  placed  himself  among  them  instead  of 
occupying  his  usual  high  seat,  in  the  gentry's  gallery — 
as  the  opening  hymn  had  just  begun. 

At  the  close  of  the  service,  when  the  conveyances 
belonging  to  the  funeral  party  drove  up  onto  the  knoll, 
Jan  went  out  and  climbed  into  the  hearse,  where  he  sat 
down  upon  the  dais  on  which  the  coffin  rested  on  the 
drive  to  the  churchyard.  As  the  big  wagon  would  now 
be  going  back  empty,  he  knew  that  here  he  would  not 
be  taking  up  some  other  person's  place.     The  daughter 


200     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

and  son-in-law  of  the  late  Bjorn  Hindrickson  walked 
back  and  forth  at  the  side  of  the  hearse  and  looked  at 
him.  They  regretted  no  doubt  that  they  could  not  ask 
him  to  ride  in  one  of  the  first  carriages.  Nor  did  he 
wish  to  incommode  any  one.  He  was  what  he  was  in 
any  case. 

During  the  drive  to  Loby  he  could  not  help  thinking 
of  the  time  when  he  and  Glory  Goldie  had  called  upon 
their  rich  relatives.  This  time,  however,  it  was  all  so 
different!  Who  was  great  and  respected  now?  and  who 
was  conferring  an  honour  upon  his  kinsfolk  by  seeking 
them  out  ? 

As  the  carriages  drew  up  in  turn  before  the  house  of 
mourning,  the  occupants  stepped  out  and  were  con- 
ducted into  the  large  waiting-room  on  the  ground  floor 
where  they  removed  their  wraps.  Two  neighbours  of  the 
Hindricksons,  who  acted  as  host  and  hostess,  then 
invited  the  more  prominent  persons  among  the  guests 
to  step  upstairs,  where  dinner  was  served. 

It  was  a  difficult  task  having  to  single  out  those  who 
were  to  sit  at  the  first  table.  For  at  so  large  a  funeral 
gathering  it  was  impossible  to  make  room  for  all  the 
guests  at  one  sitting.  The  table  had  to  be  cleared  and 
set  three  or  four  times. 


BJORN  HINDRICKSON'S  FUNERAL      201 

Some  people  would  have  regarded  it  as  an  inexcusable 
oversight  had  they  not  been  asked  to  sit  at  the  first 
table.  As  for  him  who  had  risen  to  the  exalted  station 
of  Emperor,  he  could  be  exceedingly  obliging  in  many 
ways,  but  to  be  allowed  to  sit  at  the  first  table  was  a 
right  which  he  must  not  forgo;  otherwise  folks  might 
think  he  did  not  know  it  was  his  prerogative  to  come 
before  all  others.  It  did  not  matter  so  much  his  not 
being  among  the  very  first  to  be  requested  to  step  up- 
stairs. It  was  self-evident  that  he  should  dine  with  the 
pastor  and  the  gentry;  so  he  felt  no  uneasiness  on  that 
score. 

He  sat  all  by  himself  on  a  corner  bench,  quite  silent. 
Here  nobody  came  up  to  chat  with  him  about  the 
Empress,  and  he  seemed  a  bit  dejected.  When  he  left 
home  Katrina  had  begged  him  not  to  come  to  this 
funeral,  because  the  folks  at  this  farm  were  of  too  good 
stock  to  cringe  to  either  kings  or  emperors.  It  looked 
now  as  if  she  were  right  about  it.  For  old  peasants 
who  have  lived  on  the  same  farm  from  time  immemorial 
consider  themselves  the  superiors  of  the  titled  aristoc- 
racy. 

It  was  a  slow  proceeding  bringing  together  those  who 
were  to  be  at  the  first  table.    The  host  and  hostess 


202     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

moved  about  a  long  while  seeking  the  highest  worthies, 
but  somehow  they  failed  to  come  up  to  him. 

Not  far  from  the  Emperor  sat  a  couple  of  old  spinsters, 
chatting,  who  had  not  the  least  expectation  of  being 
called  up  then.  They  were  speaking  of  Linnart,  son 
of  the  late  Bjorn  Hindrickson,  saying  it  was  well  that 
he  had  come  home  in  time  for  a  reconciliation  with  his 
father. 

Not  that  there  had  been  any  actual  enmity  between 
father  and  son,  but  it  happened  that  some  thirty  years 
earlier,  when  the  son  was  two  and  twenty  and  wanted  to 
marry,  he  had  asked  the  old  man  to  let  him  take  over 
the  management  of  the  farm,  so  that  he  could  be  his 
own  master.  This  Bjorn  had  flatly  refused  to  do.  He 
wanted  the  son  to  stay  at  home  and  go  on  working  under 
him  and  then  to  take  over  the  property  when  the  old 
man  was  no  more.  "No,"  was  the  son's  answer. 
"I'll  not  stay  at  home  and  be  your  servant  even  though 
you  are  my  father.  I  prefer  to  go  out  in  the  world 
and  make  a  home  for  myself,  for  I  must  be  as  good  a 
man  as  you  are,  or  the  feeling  of  comradeship  between 
us  will  soon  end."  "That  can  end  at  any  time,  if  you 
choose  to  go  your  own  ways,"  Bjorn  Hindrickson  told 
him.     Then  the  son  had  gone  up  into  the  wilderness 


BJORN  HINDRICKSON'S  FUNERAL      203 

northeast  of  Dove  Lake,  and  had  settled  in  the  wildest 
and  least  populated  region,  where  he  broke  ground  for  a 
farm  of  his  own.  His  land  lay  in  Bro  parish,  and  he 
was  never  again  seen  in  Svartsjo.  Not  in  thirty  years 
had  his  parents  laid  eyes  on  him.  But  a  week  ago, 
when  old  Bjorn  was  nearing  the  end,  he  had  come 
home. 

This  was  good  news  to  Jan  of  Ruffluck.  The  Sunday 
before,  when  Katrina  got  back  from  church  and  told 
him  that  Bjorn  was  dying,  he  immediately  asked  whether 
the  son  had  been  sent  for.  But  it  seems  he  had  not. 
Katrina  had  heard  that  Bjorn's  wife  had  begged  and 
implored  the  old  man  to  let  her  send  for  their  son  and 
that  he  would  not  hear  of  it.  He  wanted  to  die  in 
peace,  he  said. 

But  Jan  was  not  satisfied  to  let  the  matter  rest  there. 
The  thought  of  Linnart  away  out  in  the  wilds,  knowing 
nothing  of  his  father's  grave  condition  had  caused  him 
to  disregard  old  Bjorn's  wishes  and  go  tell  the  son  him- 
self. He  had  heard  nothing  as  to  the  outcome  until 
now,  and  he  was  so  interested  in  what  the  two  old 
spinsters  were  saying,  that  he  quite  forgot  to  think 
about  either  the  first  or  the  second  table. 

When  the  son  returned  he  and  the  father  were  as  nice 


204     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

as  could  be  to  each  other.  The  old  man  laughed  at  the 
son's  attire.  "  So  youVe  come  in  your  working  clothes," 
he  said.  "I  suppose  I  should  have  dressed  up,  since 
it*s  Sunday,"  Linnart  replied.  "But  weVe  had  so 
much  rain  up  our  way  this  summer  and  I  had  thought 
of  hauling  in  some  oats  to-day."  "Did  you  manage 
to  get  in  any?"  the  old  man  asked  him.  "I  got  one 
wagon  loaded,  but  that  I  left  standing  in  the  field 
when  word  came  that  you  were  sick.  I  hurried  away 
at  once,  without  stopping  to  change  my  clothes.*' 
"Who  told  you  about  it?"  the  father  inquired.  "Some 
man  I've  never  seen  before,"  replied  the  son.  "It 
didn't  occur  to  me  to  ask  him  who  he  was.  He  looked 
like  a  little  old  beggarman."  "You  must  find  that 
man  and  thank  him  from  me,"  old  Bjorn  then  said. 
"Him  you  must  honour  wherever  you  meet  him.  He 
has  meant  well  by  us."  The  father  and  son  were  so 
happy  over  their  reconciliation  that  it  was  as  if  death 
had  brought  them  joy  instead  of  grief. 

Jan  winced  when  he  heard  that  Linnart  Hindrickson 
had  called  him  a  beggar.  But  he  understood  of  course 
that  it  was  simply  because  he  had  not  worn  his  imperial 
cap  or  carried  his  stick  when  he  went  up  to  the  forest. 
This  brought  him  back  to  his  present  dilemma.    Surely 


BJORN  HINDRICKSON'S  FUNERAL      205 

he  had  waited  long  enough!  He  should  have  been 
called  by  this  time.     This  would  never  do! 

He  rose  at  once,  resolutely  crossed  the  room  into 
the  hallway,  climbed  the  stairs,  and  opened  the  door 
to  the  big  dining-hall.  He  saw  at  a  glance  that  the 
dinner  was  already  on;  every  place  at  the  large  horse- 
shoe table  was  occupied  and  the  Hrst  course  had 
been  served.  Then  it  was  not  meant  that  he  should 
be  among  the  elect,  for  there  sat  the  pastor,  the  sexton, 
the  lieutenant  from  Lovdala  and  his  lady — there  sat 
every  one  who  should  be  there,  except  himself. 

One  of  the  young  girls  who  passed  around  the  food 
rushed  over  to  Jan  the  instant  he  appeared  in  the  door- 
way. "What  are  you  doing  here,  Jan?"  she  said  in  a 
low  voice.     "Go  down  with  you!" 

**But  my  good  hostess!"  Jan  protested,  "Em- 
peror Johannes  of  Portugallia  should  be  present  at  the 
first  sitting." 

"Oh,  shut  up,  Jan!"  said  the  girl.  "This  is  not  the 
proper  time  to  come  with  your  nonsense.  Go  down, 
and  you'll  get  something  to  eat  when  your  turn  comes." 

It  so  happened  that  Jan  entertained  a  greater  regard 
for  this  particular  household  than  for  any  other  in  the 
parish;  therefore  it  would  have  been  very  gratifying  to 


2o6     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

him  to  be  received  here  in  a  manner  befitting  his  sta- 
tion. A  strange  feehng  of  despondency  came  over  him 
as  he  stood  down  by  the  door,  cap  in  hand;  he  feh  that 
all  his  imperial  grandeur  was  falling  from  him.  Then, 
in  the  middle  of  this  sore  predicament,  he  heard  Linnart 
Hindrickson  exclaim: 

"Why,  there  stands  the  fellow  who  came  to  me  last 
Sunday  and  told  me  that  father  was  sick!" 

"What  are  you  saying?"  questioned  the  mother. 
"  But  are  you  certain  as  to  that  ?  '* 

"Of  course  I  am.  It  can't  be  any  one  but  he.  I've 
seen  him  before  to-day,  but  I  didn't  recognize  him  in 
that  queer  get-up.  However  I  see  now  that  he's  the 
man." 

"If  he  is  our  man,  he  mustn't  be  allowed  to  stand 
down  by  the  door,  like  a  beggar,"  said  the  old  house- 
wife. "In  that  case,  we  must  make  room  for  him  at 
the  table.  Him  we  owe  both  honour  and  thanks,  for 
it  was  he  who  sent  comfort  to  Bjorn  in  his  last  hours, 
while  to  me  he  has  brought  the  only  consolation 
that  can  lighten  my  sorrow  in  the  loss  of  a  husband  like 
mine." 

And  room  was  made,  too,  though  the  table  seemed  to 
be  crowded  enough  already. 


BJORN  HINDRICKSON'S  FUNERAL      207 

Jan  was  placed  at  the  centre  of  the  horseshoe,  di- 
rectly opposite  the  pastor.  He  could  not  have  wished 
for  anything  better.  At  first  he  seemed  a  little  dazed. 
He  could  not  comprehend  why  they  should  make 
such  fuss  over  him  just  because  he  had  run  a  few  miles 
into  the  woods  with  a  message  for  Linnart  Hindrickson. 
Suddenly  he  understood,  and  all  became  clear  to  him: 
it  was  the  Emperor  they  wished  to  honour;  they  had 
gone  about  it  in  this  way  so  that  no  one  should  feel 
slighted  or  put  out.  It  couldn't  be  explained  in  any 
other  way.  For  he  had  always  been  kind  and  good- 
natured  and  helpful,  yet  never  before  had  he  been 
honoured  or  feted  in  the  least  degree  for  that. 


THE  DYING  HEART 

ENGINEER  BORAEUS  on  his  daily  stroll  to 
the  pier  could  not  fail  to  notice  the  crowds 
that  always  gathered  nowadays  around  the 
little  old  man  from  Ruffluck  Croft.  Jan  did  not  have 
to  sit  all  by  himself  any  more  and  while  away  the 
long,  dreary  hours  in  silent  musings,  as  he  had  done 
during  the  summer.  Instead,  all  who  waited  for  the 
boat  went  up  to  him  to  hear  him  tell  what  would 
happen  on  the  homecoming  of  the  Empress,  more  es- 
pecially when  she  stepped  ashore  here,  at  the  Borg 
landing.  Every  time  Engineer  Boraeus  went  by  he 
heard  about  the  crown  of  gold  the  Empress  would  wear 
on  her  hair  and  the  gold  flowers  that  would  spring  into 
bloom  on  tree  and  bush  the  instant  she  set  foot  on 
land. 

One  day,  late  in  October,  about  three  months  after 
Jan  of  Ruffluck  had  first  proclaimed  the  tidings  of 
Glory  Goldie's  rise  to  royal  honours,  the  engineer 
saw  an  uncommonly  large  gathering  of  people  around 

ao8 


THE  DYING  HEART  209 

the  little  old  man.  He  intended  to  pass  by  with  a  curt 
greeting,  as  usual,  but  changed  his  mind  and  stopped 
to  see  what  was  going  on. 

At  first  glance  he  found  nothing  out  of  the  ordinary, 
Jan  was  seated  upon  one  of  the  waiting  stones,  as  usual, 
looking  very  solemn  and  important.  Beside  him  sat 
a  tall,  thin  woman,  who  was  talking  so  fast  and  excitedly 
that  the  words  fairly  spurted  out  of  her  mouth;  she 
shook  her  head  and  snapped  her  eyes,  her  body  bending 
forward  all  the  while  so  that  by  the  time  she  had  finished 
speaking  her  face  was  on  a  level  with  the  ground. 

Engineer  Boraeus  immediately  recognized  the  woman 
as  Mad  Ingeborg.  At  first  he  could  not  make  out  what 
she  was  saying,  so  he  turned  to  a  man  in  the  crowd  and 
asked  him  what  all  this  was  about. 

"  She's  begging  him  to  arrange  for  her  to  accompany 
the  Empress  to  Portgallia,  when  Her  Royal  Highness 
returns  thither,"  the  man  explained.  "She  has  been 
talking  to  him  about  this  for  a  good  while  now,  but  he 
won't  make  her  any  promises." 

Then  the  engineer  had  no  difficulty  in  following  the 
colloquy.  But  what  he  heard  did  not  please  him,  and, 
as  he  listened,  the  wrinkle  between  his  eyebrows  deepn 
ened  and  reddened. 


2IO     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

Here  sat  the  only  person  in  the  world,  save  Jan  him- 
self, who  believed  in  the  wonders  of  Portugallia,  yet 
she  was  denied  the  pleasure  of  a  trip  there.  The  poor 
old  soul  knew  that  in  that  kingdom  there  was  no 
poverty  and  no  hunger,  neither  were  there  any  rude 
people  who  made  fun  of  unfortunates,  nor  any  children 
who  pursued  lone,  helpless  wanderers  and  cast  stones 
at  them.  In  that  land  reigned  only  peace,  and  all 
years  were  good  years.  So  thither  she  longed  to  be 
taken — away  from  the  anguish  and  misery  of  her 
wretched  existence.  She  wept  and  pleaded,  employing 
every  argument  she  could  think  of,  but  "No,"  and 
again  "No"  was  the  only  answer  she  got. 

And  he  who  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  her  prayers  was  one 
who  had  sorrowed  and  yearned  for  a  whole  year.  A 
few  months  ago,  when  his  heart  was  still  athrob  with 
life,  perhaps  he  would  not  have  said  no  to  her  pleadings; 
but  now  at  a  time  when  everything  seemed  to  be  pros- 
pering with  him,  his  heart  had  become  hardened. 
Even  the  outward  appearance  of  the  man  showed  that  a 
great  change  had  taken  place  within.  He  had  ac- 
quired plump  cheeks,  a  double  chin,  and  a  heavy  black 
moustache.  His  eyes  bulged  from  their  sockets,  and 
there  was  a  cold  fixed  stare  about  them.     His  nose. 


THE  DYING  HEART  211 

too,  looked  more  prominent  than  of  yore  and  had  taken 
on  a  more  patrician  mold.  His  hair  seemed  to  be  en- 
tirely gone;  not  one  hair  stuck  out  from  under  the  leather 
cap. 

The  engineer  had  kept  an  eye  on  the  man  from  the 
day  of  their  first  talk  in  the  summer.  It  was  no  longer 
an  intense  yearning  that  made  Jan  haunt  the  pier. 
Now  he  hardly  glanced  toward  the  boat.  He  came 
only  to  meet  people  who  humoured  his  mania,  who 
called  him  "Emperor"  just  for  the  sport  of  hearing 
him  sing  and  narrate  his  wild  fancies. 

But  why  be  annoyed  at  that?  thought  the  engineer. 
The  man  was  a  lunatic  of  course.  But  perhaps  the 
madness  need  never  have  become  so  firmly  fixed  as  it 
was  then.  If  some  one  had  ruthlessly  yanked  Jan  of 
Ruffluck  down  off  his  imperial  throne  in  the  beginning 
possibly  he  could  have  been  saved. 

The  engineer  flashed  the  man  a  challenging  glance. 
Jan  looked  condescendingly  regretful,  but  remained 
adamant  as  before. 

In  that  fine  land  of  Portugallia  there  were  only 
princes  and  generals,  to  be  sure — only  richly  dressed 
people.  Mad  Ingeborg  in  her  old  cotton  headshawl 
and  her  knit  jacket  would  naturally  be  out  of  place 


212     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

there.     But  Heavenly  Father!  the  engineer  actually 
thought 


Engineer  Boraeus  looked  just  then  as  if  he  would 
have  liked  to  give  Jan  a  needed  lesson,  but  he  only 
shrugged  his  shoulders.  He  knew  he  was  not  the  right 
person  for  that,  and  would  simply  make  bad  worse. 
Quietly  withdrawing  from  the  crowd,  he  walked  down 
to  the  end  of  the  pier  just  as  the  boat  hove  into  view 
from  behind  the  nearest  point. 


DEPOSED 

CG  before  his  marriage  to  Anna  Ericsdotter  of 
Falla,  Lars  Gunnarson  happened  one  day  to  be 
present  at  an  auction  sale. 

The  parties  who  held  the  auction  were  poor  folk 
who  probably  had  no  tempting  wares  to  offer  the  bar- 
gain seekers,  for  the  bidding  had  been  slow,  and  the 
sales  poor.  They  had  a  right  to  expect  better  results, 
with  Jons  of  Kisterud  as  auctioneer.  Jons  was  such 
a  capital  funmaker  that  people  used  to  attend  all  auc- 
tions at  which  he  officiated  just  for  the  pleasure  of 
listening  to  him.  Although  he  got  off  all  his  usual 
quips  and  jokes,  he  could  not  seem  to  infuse  any 
life  into  the  bidders  on  this  occasion.  At  last,  not 
knowing  what  else  he  could  do,  he  put  down  his 
hammer  saying  he  was  too  hoarse  to  do  any  more 
crying. 

"The  senator  will  have  to  get  some  one  else  to  offer 
the  wares,"  he  told  Carl  Carlson  of  Stovik,  who  stood 
sponsor  for  the  auction.     "I've  shouted  myself  hoarse 

ai3 


214     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

at  these  stone  images  standing  around  me,  and  will  have 
to  go  home  and  keep  my  mouth  shut  for  a  few  weeks, 
till  I  can  get  back  my  voice." 

It  was  a  serious  matter  for  the  senator  to  be  left 
without  a  crier,  when  most  of  the  lots  were  still  unsold; 
so  he  tried  to  persuade  Jons  to  continue.  But  it  was 
plain  that  Jons  could  not  afford  to  hurt  his  professional 
standing  by  holding  a  poor  auction,  and  therefore  he 
became  so  hoarse  all  at  once  that  he  could  not  even 
speak  in  a  whisper.     He  only  wheezed. 

"  Perhaps  there  is  some  one  here  who  will  cry  out  the 
wares  for  a  moment,  while  Jons  is  resting?"  said  the 
senator,  looking  out  over  the  crowd  without  much  hope 
of  finding  a  helper. 

Then  Lars  Gunnarson  pushed  his  way  forward  and 
said  he  was  willing  to  try.  Carl  Carslon  only  laughed 
at  Lars,  who  at  that  time  looked  like  a  mere  stripling, 
and  told  him  he  did  not  want  a  small  boy  who  had  not 
even  been  confirmed.  Whereupon  Lars  promptly  in- 
formed Carl  Carlson  that  he  had  not  only  been  con- 
firmed but  had  also  performed  military  service.  He 
begged  so  eagerly  to  be  allowed  to  wield  the  hammer 
that  the  senator  finally  gave  way  to  him. 

"We  may  as  well  let  you  try  your  hand  at  it  for  a 


DEPOSED  215 

while,"  he  said.  "I  dare  say  it  can't  go  any  worse 
than  it  has  gone  so  far." 

Lars  promptly  stepped  into  Jons's  place.  He  took 
up  an  old  butter  tub  to  offer  it — hesitated  and  just  stood 
there  looking  at  it,  turning  the  tub  up  and  down,  tap- 
ping on  its  bottom  and  sides.  Apparently  surprised 
not  to  find  any  flaws  in  it,  he  presently  offered  the  lot 
in  a  reluctant  tone  of  voice,  as  if  distressed  at  having 
to  sell  so  valuable  an  article.  For  his  part,  he  would 
rather  that  no  bids  be  made,  he  said.  It  would  be 
lucky  for  the  owner  if  no  one  discovered  what  a  precious 
butter  tub  this  was,  for  then  he  could  keep  it. 

And  now,  when  bid  followed  bid,  everybody  noticed 
how  disappointed  Lars  looked.  It  was  all  very  well  so 
long  as  the  bids  were  so  low  as  to  be  beneath  his  notice; 
but  when  they  began  to  mount  higher  and  higher,  his 
face  became  distorted  from  chagrin.  He  seemed  to  be 
making  a  great  sacrifice  when  he  finally  decided  to  knock 
down  the  sour  old  butter  tub. 

After  that  he  turned  his  attention  to  the  water  buck- 
ets, the  cowls,  and  washtubs.  Lars  Gunnarson  seemed 
somewhat  less  reluctant  when  it  came  to  disposing  of 
the  older  ones,  which  he  sold  without  indulging  in  over- 
much sighing;  but  the  newer  lots  he  did  not  want  to 


2i6     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

oflFer  at  all.  "They  are  far  too  good  to  give  away,"  he 
remarked  to  the  owner.  "They've  been  used  so  little 
that  you  could  easily  sell  them  for  new  at  the  fair." 

The  auction  hunters  had  no  notion  as  to  why  they 
kept  shouting  more  and  more  eagerly.  Lars  Gunnarson 
showed  much  distress  for  every  fresh  bid;  it  could  never 
have  been  to  please  him  they  were  bidding.  Somehow 
they  had  come  to  regard  the  things  he  offered  as  of  real 
worth.  It  suddenly  occurred  to  them  that  one  thing 
or  another  was  needed  at  home  and  here  were  veritable 
bargains,  which  they  were  not  buying  now  just  for  the 
fun  of  it,  as  had  been  the  case  when  Jons  of  Kisterud 
did  the  auctioning. 

After  this  master  stroke  Lars  Gunnarson  was  in  great 
demand  at  all  acutions.  There  was  never  any  mer- 
riment at  the  sales  after  he  had  begun  to  wield  the  ham- 
mer; but  he  had  the  faculty  of  making  folks  long 
to  get  possession  of  a  lot  of  old  junk  and  inducing 
a  couple  of  bigwigs  to  bid  against  each  other  on  things 
they  had  no  earthly  use  for,  simply  to  show  that  money 
was  no  object  to  them.  And  he  managed  to  dispose  of 
everything  at  all  auctions  at  which  he  served. 

Once  only  did  it  seem  to  go  badly  for  Lars,  and  that 
was  at  Sven  Osterby's,  at  Bergvik.    There  was  a  fine 


DEPOSED  217 

big  house,  with  all  its  furnishings  up  for  sale.  Many 
people  had  assembled,  and  though  late  in  the  autumn  the 
weather  was  so  mild  that  the  auction  could  be  held  out 
of  doors;  yet  the  sales  were  almost  negligible.  Lars 
could  not  make  the  people  take  any  interest  in  the  wares, 
or  get  them  to  bid.  It  looked  as  though  it  would  go  no 
better  for  him  than  it  had  gone  for  Jons  of  Kisterud  the 
day  Lars  had  to  take  up  the  hammer  to  help  him  out. 

Lars  Gunnarson,  however,  had  no  desire  to  turn  his 
work  over  to  another.  He  tried  instead  to  find  out  what 
it  was  that  seemed  to  be  distracting  the  attention  of 
the  people  and  keeping  them  from  making  purchases. 
Nor  was  he  long  getting  at  the  cause  of  it. 

Lars  had  mounted  a  table,  that  every  one  might  see 
what  he  had  to  offer,  and  from  this  point  of  vantage  he 
soon  discovered  that  the  newly  created  emperor,  who 
lived  in  the  little  hut  close  to  Falla  and  had  been  a  day 
labourer  all  his  life,  moved  about  in  the  crowd.  Lars 
saw  him  bowing  and  smiling  to  right  and  left,  and  let- 
ting people  examine  his  stars  and  his  stick,  and,  at  every 
turn,  he  had  a  long  line  of  youngsters  at  his  heels.  Nor 
were  older  folks  above  bandying  words  with  him.  No 
wonder  the  auction  went  badly,  with  a  grand  monarch 
like  him  there  to  draw  every  one's  attention  to  himself  I 


2i8     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

At  first  Lars  went  right  on  with  his  auctioneering, 
but  he  kept  an  eye  on  Jan  of  Ruffluck  until  the  latter 
had  made  his  way  to  the  front.  There  was  no  fear  of 
Johannes  of  Portugallia  remaining  in  the  background! 
He  shook  hands  with  everybody  and  spoke  a  few  pleasant 
words  to  each  and  all,  at  the  same  time  pushing  ahead 
until  he  had  reached  the  very  centre  of  the  ring. 

But  the  moment  Jan  was  there  Lars  Gunnarson 
jumped  down  from  the  table,  rushed  up  to  him,  snatched 
his  imperial  cap  and  stick  and  was  back  in  his  place 
before  Jan  had  time  to  think  of  offering  resistance. 

Then  Jan  cried  out  and  tried  to  climb  up  onto  the 
table  to  get  back  the  stolen  heirlooms,  but  immediately 
Lars  raised  the  stick  to  him  and  forced  him  back. 
At  that  there  was  a  murmur  of  disapproval  from  the 
crowd,  which,  however,  had  no  effect  upon  Lars. 

"I  see  that  you  are  surprised  at  my  action,"  he 
shouted  in  his  loud  auctioneering  voice,  which  could  be 
heard  all  over  the  yard.  "But  this  cap  and  this  stick 
belong  to  us  Falla  folk.  They  were  bequeathed  to  my 
father-in-law,  Eric  Ersa,  by  the  old  master  of  Falla, 
he  who  ran  the  farm  before  Eric  took  it  over.  These 
things  have  always  been  treasured  in  the  family,  and 
I  can't  tolerate  having  a  lunatic  parade  around  in  them. 


DEPOSED  219 

Jan  had  suddenly  recovered  his  composure  and  while 
Lars  was  speaking,  he  stood  with  his  arms  crossed  on 
his  chest  a  look  in  his  face  of  sublime  indifference  to 
Lars's  talk.  As  soon  as  Lars  subsided,  Jan,  with  a  ges- 
ture of  command,  turned  to  the  crowd,  and  said  very 
quietly: 

"Now,  my  good  Courtiers,  you  must  see  that  I  get 
back  my  property." 

Not  a  solitary  person  made  a  move  to  help  him,  but 
there  were  some  who  laughed.  Now  they  had  all  gone 
over  to  Lars's  side.  There  was  just  one  individual  who 
seemed  to  feel  sorry  for  Jan.  A  woman  cried  out  to 
the  auctioneer: 

"Ah,  Lars,  let  him  keep  his  royal  trumpery!  The 
cap  and  stick  are  of  no  use  to  you." 

"I'll  give  him  one  of  my  own  caps,  when  I  get  home," 
returned  Lars.  "But  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  let  him  go 
about  any  longer  with  these  heirlooms,  making  of  them 
a  target  for  jests!" 

This  was  followed  by  loud  laughs  from  the  crowd. 
Jan  was  so  dumfounded  that  all  he  could  do  was  to 
stand  still  and  look  at  the  people.  He  glanced  from 
one  to  another,  unable  to  get  over  his  amazement. 
Dear,  dear!     Was  there  no  one  among  all  those  who 


220     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

had  honoured  and  applauded  him  who  would  help  him 
now,  in  his  hour  of  need  ?  The  people  stood  there,  un- 
moved. He  saw  then  that  he  meant  nothing  to  them 
and  that  they  would  not  lift  a  finger  for  him.  He  be- 
came so  frightened  that  all  his  imperial  greatness  fell 
from  him,  and  he  was  like  a  little  child  that  is  ready 
to  cry  because  its  playthings  have  been  taken  away. 

Lars  Gunnarson  turned  to  the  huge  pile  of  wares 
stacked  beside  him,  prepared  to  go  on  with  the  auc- 
tion. Then  Jan  attempted  to  do  something  himself. 
Wailing  and  protesting,  he  went  up  to  the  table  where 
Lars  stood,  quickly  bent  down  and  tried  to  overturn  it. 
But  Lars  was  too  alert  for  him;  with  a  swing  of  the 
imperial  stick,  he  dealt  Jan  a  blow  across  his  back  that 
sent  him  reeling. 

"No  you  don't!"  cried  he.  "I'll  keep  these  articles 
for  the  present.  You've  wasted  enough  time  already 
on  this  emperor  nonsense.  Now  you'd  better  go 
straight  home  and  take  to  your  digging  again." 

Jan  did  not  appear  to  be  specially  anxious  to  obey; 
whereupon  Lars  again  raised  the  stick,  and  nothing 
more  was  needed  to  make  Emperor  Johannes  of  Por- 
tugallia  turn  and  flee. 

No  one  made  a  move  to  follow  him  or  oflfered  him  a 


DEPOSED  221 

word  of  sympathy.  No  one  called  to  him  to  come 
back.  Indeed  folks  only  laughed  when  they  saw  how 
pitilessly  and  unceremoniously  he  had  been  stripped  of 
all  his  grandeur. 

But  this  did  not  suit  Lars,  either.  He  wanted  to  have 
it  as  solemn  at  his  auctions  as  at  a  church  service. 

"I  think  it's  better  to  talk  sense  to  Jan  than  to 
laugh  at  him,"  he  said,  reprovingly.  "There  are  many 
who  encourage  him  in  his  foolishness  and  who  even  call 
him  Emperor.  But  that  is  hardly  the  right  way  to 
treat  him.  It  would  be  far  better  to  make  him  under- 
stand who  and  what  he  is,  even  though  he  doesn't  like 
it.  I  have  been  his  employer  for  some  little  time,  there- 
fore it  is  my  bounden  duty  to  see  that  he  goes  back  to 
his  work;  otherwise  he'll  soon  be  a  charge  on  the  parish." 

After  that  Lars  held  a  good  auction,  with  close  and 
high  bids.  The  satisfaction  which  he  now  felt  was  not 
lessened  when  on  his  homecoming  the  next  day,  he 
learned  that  Jan  of  Ruffluck  had  again  put  on  his  work- 
ing clothes,  and  gone  back  to  his  digging. 

"We  must  never  remind  him  of  his  madness,"  Lars 
Gunnarson  warned  his  people,  "then  perhaps  his  reason 
will  be  spared  to  him.  Anyhow,  he  has  never  had  more 
than  he  needs." 


THE  CATECHETICAL  MEETING 

1ARS  GUNNARSON  was  decidedly  pleased  with 
himself  for  having  taken  the  cap  and  stick 
-^  away  from  Jan;  it  looked  as  if  he  had  at  the 
same  time  relieved  the  peasant  of  his  mania. 

A  fortnight  after  the  auction  at  Bergvik  a  catechetical 
meeting  was  held  at  Falla.  People  had  gathered  there 
from  the  whole  district  round  about  Dove  Lake,  the 
Ruffluck  folk  being  among  them.  There  was  nothing 
in  Jan's  manner  or  bearing  now  that  would  lead  one  to 
think  he  was  not  in  his  right  mind. 

All  the  benches  and  chairs  in  the  house  had  been 
moved  into  the  large  room  on  the  ground  floor  and 
arranged  in  close  rows,  and  there  sat  every  one  who  was 
to  be  catechized,  including  Jan;  for  to-day  he  had  not 
pushed  his  way  up  to  a  better  seat  than  he  was  entitled 
to.  Lars  kept  his  eyes  on  Jan.  He  had  to  admit  to 
himself  that  the  man's  insanity  had  apparently  been 
checked.  Jan  behaved  now  like  any  rational  being; 
he  was  very  quiet  and  all  who  greeted  him  received  only 


THE  CATECHETICAL  MEETING       223 

a  stiff  nod  In  response,  which  may  have  been  due  to  a 
desire  on  his  part  not  to  disturb  the  spirit  of  the  meeting. 

The  regular  meeting  was  preceded  by  a  roll  call,  and 
when  the  pastor  called  out  "Jan  Anderson  of  RufBuck 
Croft,"  the  latter  answered  "here"  without  the  slight- 
est hesitation — as  if  Emperor  Johannes  of  Portugallia 
had  never  existed. 

The  clergyman  sat  at  a  table  at  the  far  end  of  the 
room,  with  the  big  church  registry  in  front  of  him. 
Beside  him  sat  Lars  Gunnarson,  enlightening  him  as  to 
who  had  moved  away  from  the  district  within  the  year, 
and  who  had  married. 

Jan  having  answered  all  questions  correctly  and 
promptly,  the  pastor  turned  to  Lars  and  put  a  query 
to  him  in  a  low  tone  of  voice. 

"It  was  not  as  serious  as  It  appeared,"  said  Lars. 
"I  took  it  out  of  him.  He  works  at  Falla  every  day 
now,  as  he  has  always  done." 

Lars  had  not  thought  to  lower  his  voice,  as  had  the 
pastor.  Every  one  knew  of  whom  he  was  speaking 
and  many  glanced  anxiously  at  Jan,  who  sat  there  as 
calm  as  though  he  had  not  heard  a  word. 

Later,  when  the  catechizing  was  well  on,  the  pastor 
happened  to  ask  a  trembling  youth  whose  knowledge 


224     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

of  the  Scriptures  was  to  be  tested,  to  repeat  the  Fourth 
Commandment. 

It  was  not  wholly  by  chance  the  pastor  had  chosen 
this  commandment  as  his  text  for  that  evening.  When 
seated  thus  in  a  comfortable  old  farmhouse,  with  its 
olden-time  furniture,  and  much  else  that  plainly  be- 
spoke a  state  of  prosperity,  he  always  felt  moved  to 
impress  upon  his  hearers  how  well  those  prosper  who 
hold  together  from  generation  to  generation,  who  let 
their  elders  govern  as  long  as  they  are  able  to  do  so,  and 
who  honour  and  cherish  them  throughout  the  remaining 
years  of  their  lives. 

He  had  just  begun  to  unfold  the  rich  promises  which 
God  has  made  to  those  who  honour  father  and  mother, 
when  Jan  of  Ruffluck  arose. 

"There  is  some  one  standing  outside  the  door  who  is 
afraid  to  come  in,"  said  Jan. 

"Go  see  what  the  matter  is,  Borje,"  said  the  pastor. 
"You're  nearest  the  door." 

Borje  rose  at  once,  opened  the  door,  and  glanced  up 
and  down  the  entry. 

"There's  nobody  out  there,"  he  replied.  "Jan 
must  have  heard  wrongly." 

After  this  interruption  the  pastor  proceeded  to  ex- 


THE  CATECHETICAL  MEETING        225 

plain  to  his  listeners  that  this  commandment  was  not 
so  much  of  a  command  as  it  was  good  counsel,  which 
should  be  strictly  followed  if  one  wished  to  succeed 
in  life.  He  was  himself  only  a  youth,  but  this  much  he 
had  already  observed:  lack  of  respect  toward  parents 
and  disobedience  were  at  the  bottom  of  many  of  life's 
misfortunes. 

While  the  pastor  was  speaking  Jan  time  and  again 
turned  his  head  toward  the  door  and  he  motioned  to 
Katrina,  who  was  sitting  on  the  last  bench  and  could 
more  easily  get  to  the  door  than  he  could,  to  go  open  it. 

Katrina  kept  her  seat  as  long  as  she  dared;  but  being 
a  bit  fearful  of  crossing  Jan  these  days,  she  finally  obeyed 
him.  When  she  had  got  the  door  open,  she,  like  Borje, 
saw  no  one  in  the  entry.  She  shook  her  head  at  Jan 
and  went  back  to  her  seat. 

The  pastor  had  not  allowed  himself  to  be  discon- 
certed by  Katrina's  movements.  To  the  great  joy  of 
all  the  young  people,  he  had  almost  ceased  putting 
questions  and  was  voicing  some  of  the  beautiful  thoughts 
that  kept  coming  into  his  mind. 

"Think  how  wisely  and  well  things  are  ordered  for 
the  dear  old  people  whom  we  have  with  us  in  our 
homes!"  he  said.     "Is  it  not  a  blessing  that  we  may 


226     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

be  a  stay  and  comfort  to  those  who  cared  for  us  when 
we  were  helpless,  to  make  life  easy  for  those  who  per- 
haps have  suffered  hunger  themselves  that  we  might 
be  fed  ?  It  is  an  honour  for  a  young  couple  to  have  at 
the  fireside  an  old  father  or  mother,  happy  and  con- 
tent  " 

When  the  pastor  said  that  a  smothered  sob  was  heard 
from  a  corner  of  the  room.  Lars  Gunnarson,  who  had 
been  sitting  with  head  devoutly  bowed,  arose  at  once. 
Crossing  the  floor  on  tiptoes,  so  as  not  to  disturb  the 
meeting,  he  went  over  to  his  mother-in-law,  placed  his 
arm  around  her,  and  led  her  up  to  the  table.  Seating 
her  in  his  own  chair,  he  stationed  himself  behind  it  and 
looked  down  at  her  with  an  air  of  solicitude;  then  he 
beckoned  to  his  wife  to  come  and  stand  beside  him. 
Every  one  understood  of  course  that  Lars  wanted  them 
to  think  that  in  this  home  all  was  as  the  pastor  had  said 
it  should  be. 

The  minister  looked  pleased  as  he  glanced  up  at  the 
old  mother  and  her  children.  The  only  thing  that 
affected  him  a  little  unpleasantly  was  that  the  old 
woman  wept  all  the  while.  He  had  never  before  suc- 
ceeded in  calling  forth  such  deep  emotion  in  any  of  his 
parishioners. 


THE  CATECHETICAL  MEETING       227 

"It  is  not  difficult  to  keep  the  Fourth  Command- 
ment when  we  are  young  and  still  under  the  rule  of  our 
parents,"  the  pastor  continued;  "but  the  real  test  comes 
later,  when  we  are  grown  and  think  ourselves  quite  as 
wise " 

Here  the  pastor  was  again  interrupted.  Jan  had  just 
risen  and  gone  to  the  door  himself.  He  seemed  to  have 
better  luck  than  had  Borje  or  Katrina:  for  he  was  heard 
to  say  "Go'-day  "  to  somebody  out  in  the  entry. 

Now  every  one  turned  to  see  who  it  was  that  had 
been  standing  outside  all  the  evening,  afraid  to  come  in. 
They  could  hear  Jan  urging  and  imploring.  Evi- 
dently the  person  wished  to  be  excused,  for  presently 
Jan  pulled  the  door  to  and  stepped  back  into  the  room, 
alone.  He  did  not  return  to  his  seat,  but  threaded  his 
way  up  to  the  table. 

"Well,  Jan,"  said  the  pastor,  somewhat  impatient, 
"may  we  hear  now  who  it  is  that  has  been  disturbing 
us  the  whole  evening?" 

"It  was  the  old  master  of  Falb  who  stood  out  there," 
Jan  replied,  not  in  the  least  astonished  or  excited  over 
what  he  had  to  impart.  "He  wouldn't  come  in,  but 
he  bade  me  tell  Lars  from  him  to  beware  the  first  Sun- 
day after  Midsummer  Day." 


228     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

At  first  not  many  understood  what  lay  back  of  Jan's 
words.  Those  who  sat  in  the  last  rows  had  not  heard 
distinctly,  but  they  inferred  from  the  startled  look  on 
the  pastor's  face  that  Jan  must  have  said  something 
dreadful.  They  all  sprang  up  and  began  to  crowd 
nearer  the  table,  asking  to  right  and  left  who  on  earth 
he  could  have  been  talking  to. 

"But  Jan!"  said  the  pastor  in  a  firm  tone,  "do  you 
know  what  you  are  saying?" 

"I  do  indeed,"  returned  Jan  with  an  emphatic  nod. 
"As  soon  as  he  had  given  me  the  message  for  his  son- 
in-law  he  went  away.  'Tell  him,'  he  said,  'that  I  wish 
him  no  ill  for  letting  me  lie  in  the  snow  in  my  agony 
and  not  coming  to  my  aid  in  time;  but  the  Fourth 
Commandment  is  a  strict  one.  Tell  him  from  me  he'd 
better  repent  and  confess.  He  will  have  until  the 
Sunday  after  Midsummer  to  do  it  in.' " 

Jan  spoke  so  rationally  and  delivered  his  strange 
message  with  such  sincerity  that  both  the  pastor  and 
the  others  firmly  believed  at  first  that  Eric  of  Falla 
had  actually  stood  outside  the  door  of  his  old  home  and 
talked  with  Jan.  And  naturally  they  all  turned  their 
eyes  toward  Lars  Gunnarson  to  see  what  effect  Jan's 
words  had  had  on  him. 


THE  CATECHETICAL  MEETING        229 

Lars  only  laughed.  "I  thought  Jan  sane,"  he  said, 
"or  I  shouldn't  have  let  him  come  to  the  meeting. 
The  pastor  will  have  to  pardon  the  interruption.  It 
is  the  madness  breaking  out  again." 

"Why  of  course!"  said  the  pastor,  relieved.  For 
he  had  been  on  the  point  of  believing  he  had  come  upon 
something  supernatural.  It  was  well,  he  thought, 
that  this  was  only  the  fancy  of  a  lunatic. 

"You  see,  Pastor,"  Lars  went  on  explaining,  "Jan 
has  no  great  love  for  me,  and  it's  plain  now  he  hasn't 
the  wit  to  conceal  it.  I  must  confess  that  in  a  sense 
I'm  to  blame  for  his  daughter  having  to  go  away  to 
earn  money.     It's  this  he  holds  against  me." 

The  parson,  a  little  surprised  at  Lars's  eager  tone, 
gave  him  a  searching  glance.  Lars  did  not  meet  that 
gaze,  but  looked  away.  Perceiving  his  mistake,  he 
tried  to  look  the  parson  in  the  face.  Somehow  he 
couldn't — so  turned  away,  with  an  oath. 

"Lars  Gunnarson!"  exclaimed  the  pastor  in  aston- 
ishment.    "What  has  come  over  you?" 

Lars  immediately  pulled  himself  together. 

"Can't  I  be  rid  of  this  lunatic?"  he  said,  as  though 
Jan  were  the  one  he  had  sworn  at.  "Here  stand  the 
pastor  and  all  my  neighbours  regarding  me  as  a  murderer 


230     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

only  because  a  madman  happens  to  hold  a  grudge 
against  me!  I  tell  you  he  wants  to  get  back  at  me 
on  account  of  his  daughter.  How  could  I  know  that 
she  would  leave  home  and  go  wrong  simply  because  I 
wanted  what  was  due  me.  Is  there  no  one  here  who 
will  take  charge  of  Jan/'  he  asked,  "so  that  the  rest  of 
us  may  enjoy  the  service  in  peace?" 

The  pastor  sat  stroking  his  forehead.  Lars*s  remarks 
troubled  him;  but  he  could  not  reprimand  him  when  he 
had  no  positive  proof  that  the  man  had  committed  a 
wrong.  He  looked  around  for  the  old  mistress  of  Falla; 
but  she  had  slipped  away.  Then  he  glanced  out  over  the 
gathering,  and  from  that  quarter  he  got  no  help.  He 
was  confident  that  all  in  the  room  knew  whether  or  not 
Lars  was  guilty,  yet,  when  he  turned  to  them,  their 
faces  looked  quite  blank.  Meantime  Katrina  had 
come  forward  and  taken  Jan  by  the  arm,  and  the  two  of 
them  were  then  moving  toward  the  door.  Anyhow,  the 
pastor  had  no  desire  to  question  a  crazy  man. 

"I  think  this  will  do  for  to-night,"  he  said  quietly. 
"We  will  bring  the  meeting  to  a  close.'*  He  made  a 
short  prayer,  which  was  followed  by  a  hymn.  Where- 
upon the  people  went  their  ways. 

The  pastor  was  the  last  to  leave.     While  Lars  was  see- 


THE  CATECHETICAL  MEETING        231 

ing  him  to  the  gate  he  spoke  quite  voluntarily  of  that 
which  had  just  taken  place. 

"Did  you  mark,  Pastor,  it  was  the  Sunday  after 
Midsummer  Day  I  was  to  be  on  my  guard?'*  he  said. 
"That  just  shows  it  was  the  girl  Jan  had  in  mind. 
It  was  the  Sunday  after  Midsummer  of  last  year  that  I 
was  over  at  Jan's  place  to  have  an  understanding  with 
him  about  the  hut." 

All  these  explanations  only  distressed  the  pastor  the 
more.  Of  a  sudden  he  put  his  hand  on  Lars's  shoulder 
and  tried  to  read  his  face. 

"I'm  not  your  judge,  Lars  Gunnarson,"  he  said  in 
warm,  reassuring  tones,  "but  if  you  have  something  on 
your  conscience,  you  can  come  to  me.  I  shall  look 
for  you  every  day.     Only  don't  put  it  off  too  long!" 


AN  OLD  TROLL 

THE  second  winter  of  the  little  girl's  absence  from 
home  was  an  extremely  severe  one.  By  the 
middle  of  January  it  had  grown  so  unbearably 
cold  that  snow  had  to  be  banked  around  all  the  Httle 
huts  in  the  Ashdales  as  a  protection  against  the  ele- 
ments, and  every  night  the  cows  had  to  be  covered 
with  straw,  to  keep  them  from  freezing  to  death. 

It  was  so  cold  that  the  bread  froze;  the  cheese  froze, 
and  even  the  butter  turned  to  ice.  The  fire  itself 
seemed  unable  to  hold  its  warmth.  It  mattered  not 
how  many  logs  one  laid  in  the  fireplace,  the  heat  spread 
no  farther  than  to  the  edge  of  the  hearth. 

One  day,  when  the  winter  was  at  its  worst,  Jan 
decided  that  instead  of  going  out  to  his  work  he  would 
stay  at  home  and  help  Katrina  keep  the  fire  alive. 
Neither  he  nor  the  wife  ventured  outside  the  hut  that 
day,  and  the  longer  they  remained  indoors  the  more  they 
felt  the  cold.  At  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  when  it 
began  to  grow  dark,  Katrina  said  they  might  as  well 

232 


AN  OLD  TROLL  233 

"turn  in";  it  was  no  good  their  sitting  up  any  longer, 
torturing  themselves. 

During  the  afternoon  Jan  had  gone  over  to  the  win- 
dow, time  and  again,  and  peered  out  through  a  little 
corner  of  a  pane  that  had  remained  clear,  though  the 
rest  of  the  glass  was  thickly  crusted  with  frost  flowers. 
And  now  he  went  back  there  again. 

"You  can  go  to  bed,  Katrina  dear,"  he  said  as  he 
stood  looking  out,  "but  I've  got  to  stay  up  a  while 
longer." 

"Well  I  never!"  ejaculated  Katrina.  "Why  should 
you  stay  up.?    Why  can't  you  go  to  bed  as  well  as  I ?" 

But  Jan  did  not  reply  to  her  questions.  "It's  strange 
I  haven't  seen  Agrippa  Prastberg  pass  by  yet,"  he  said. 

"Is  it  him  you're  waiting  for!"  snapped  Katrina. 
"He  hasn't  been  so  extra  nice  to  you  that  you  need  feel 
called  upon  to  sit  up  and  freeze  on  his  account!" 

Jan  put  up  his  hand  with  a  sweep  of  authority — this 
being  the  only  mannerism  acquired  during  his  emperor- 
ship which  had  not  been  dropped.  There  was  no  fear 
of  Prastberg  coming  to  them,  he  told  her.  He  had 
heard  that  the  old  man  had  been  invited  to  a  drinking 
bout  at  a  fisherman's  hut  here  in  the  Ashdales,  but  so 
far  he  had  not  seen  him  go  by. 


234     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

"I  suppose  he  has  had  the  good  sense  to  stay  at  home," 
said  Katrlna. 

It  grew  colder  and  colder.  The  corners  of  the  house 
creaked  as  if  the  freezing  wind  were  knocking  to  be  let 
in.  All  the  bushes  and  trees  were  covered  with  such 
thick  coats  of  snow  and  rim  frost  they  looked  quite 
shapeless.  But  bushes  and  trees,  like  humans,  had  to 
clothe  themselves  as  well  as  they  could,  in  order  to  be 
protected  against  the  cold. 

In  a  little  while  Katrina  observed:  "I  see  by  the 
clock  it's  only  half  after  five,  but  all  the  same  I'll  put 
on  the  porridge  pot  and  prepare  the  evening  meal. 
After  supper,  you  can  sit  up  and  wait  for  Prastberg  or 
go  to  bed,  whichever  you  like." 

All  this  time  Jan  had  stood  at  the  window.  "It 
can't  be  that  he  has  come  this  way  without  my  seeing 
him?"  he  said. 

"Who  cares  whether  a  brute  like  him  comes  or  does- 
n't come!"  returned  Katrina  sharply,  for  she  was  tired 
of  hearing  about  that  old  tramp. 

Jan  heaved  a  deep  sigh.  Katrina  was  more  right  than 
she  herself  knew.  He  did  not  care  a  bit  whether  or  not 
old  "Grippie"  had  passed.  His  saying  that  he  was  ex- 
pected was  merely  an  excuse  for  standing  at  the  window. 


AN  OLD  TROLL  235 

No  word  or  token  had  he  received  from  the  great 
Empress,  the  little  girl  of  Ruffluck,  since  the  day  Lars 
wrested  from  him  his  majesty  and  glory.  He  felt  that 
such  a  thing  could  never  have  happened  without  her 
sanction,  and  inferred  from  this  that  he  had  done 
something  to  incur  her  displeasure;  but  what  he  could 
not  imagine!  He  had  brooded  over  this  all  through  the 
long  winter  evenings;  through  the  long  dark  mornings, 
when  threshing  in  the  barn  at  Falla;  through  the 
short  days,  when  carting  wood  from  the  big  forest. 

Everything  had  passed  off  so  happily  and  well  for 
him  for  three  whole  months,  so  of  course  he  could  not 
think  she  had  been  dissatisfied  with  his  emperorship. 
He  had  then  known  a  time  such  as  he  had  never  dreamed 
could  come  to  a  poor  man  like  himself.  But  surely 
Glory  Goldie  was  not  offended  at  him  for  that! 

No.  He  had  done  or  said  something  which  was  dis- 
pleasing to  her,  that  was  why  he  was  being  punished. 
But  could  it  be  that  she  was  so  slow  to  forget  as  never 
to  forgive  him.''  If  she  would  only  tell  him  what  she 
was  angry  about!  He  would  do  anything  he  could  to 
pacify  her.  She  must  see  for  herself  how  he  had  put  on 
his  working  clothes  and  gone  out  as  a  day  labourer  as 
soon  as  she  let  him  know  that  such  was  her  wish. 


236     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

He  could  not  speak  of  this  matter  to  either  Katrina 
or  the  seine-maker.  He  would  be  patient  and  wait  for 
some  positive  sign  from  Glory  Goldie.  Many  times 
he  had  felt  it  to  be  so  near  that  he  had  only  to  put  out 
his  hand  and  take  it.  That  very  day,  shut  in  as  he  was, 
he  had  the  feeling  that  there  was  a  message  from  her  on 
the  way.  This  was  why  he  stood  peering  out  through  the 
little  clear  corner  of  the  window.  He  knew,  also,  that 
unless  it  came  very  soon  he  could  not  go  on  living. 

It  was  so  dark  now  that  he  could  hardly  see  as  far  as 
the  gate,  and  his  hopes  for  that  day  were  at  an  end. 
He  had  no  objection  to  retiring  at  once,  he  said  pres- 
ently. Katrina  dished  out  the  porridge,  the  evening 
meal  was  hurridly  eaten,  and  by  a  quarter  after  six 
they  were  abed. 

They  dropped  off  to  sleep,  too;  but  their  slumbers 
were  of  short  duration.  The  hands  of  the  big  Dale- 
carlian  clock  had  barely  got  round  to  six-thirty  when 
Jan  sprang  out  of  bed;  he  quickly  freshened  the  fire, 
which  was  almost  burned  out,  then  proceeded  to  dress 
himself. 

Jan  tried  to  be  as  quiet  as  possible,  but  for  all  that 
Katrina  was  awakened;  raising  herself  in  bed  she  asked 
if  it  was  already  morning. 


AN  OLD  TROLL  237 

No,  indeed  it  wasn't,  but  the  little  girl  had  called  to 
Jan  in  a  dream,  and  commanded  him  to  go  up  to  the 
forest. 

Now  it  was  Katrina's  turn  to  sigh!  It  must  be  the 
madness  come  back,  thought  she.  She  had  been  ex- 
pecting it  every  day  for  some  little  time,  for  Jan  had 
been  so  depressed  and  restless  of  late. 

She  made  no  attempt  to  persuade  him  to  stay  at 
home,  but  got  up,  instead,  and  put  on  her  clothes. 

"Wait  a  minute!"  she  said,  when  Jan  was  at  the 
door.  "If  you're  going  out  into  the  woods  to-night, 
then  I  want  to  go  with  you." 

She  feared  Jan  would  raise  objections,  but  he  didn't; 
he  remained  at  the  door  till  she  was  ready.  Though 
apparently  anxious  to  be  off,  he  seemed  more  controlled 
and  rational  than  he  had  been  all  day. 

And  what  a  night  to  venture  out  into!  The  cold 
came  against  them  like  a  rain  of  piercing  and  cut- 
ting glass-splinters.  Their  skins  smarted  and  they 
felt  as  if  their  noses  were  being  torn  from  their 
faces;  their  fingertips  ached  and  their  toes  were  as 
if  they  had  been  cut  off;  they  hardly  knew  they  had 
any  toes. 

Jan    uttered    no   word    of   complaint,    neither    did 


238     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

Katrina;  they  just  tramped  on  and  on.  Jan  turned 
in  on  the  winter-road  across  the  heights,  the  one  they 
had  traversed  with  Glory  Goldie  one  Christmas  morn- 
ing when  she  was  so  Httle  she  had  to  be  carried. 

There  was  a  clear  sky  and  in  the  west  gleamed  a 
pale  crescent  moon,  so  that  the  night  was  far  from  pitch 
dark.  Still  it  was  difficult  to  keep  to  the  road  because 
everything  was  so  white  with  snow;  time  after  time 
they  wandered  too  close  to  the  edge  and  sank  deep 
into  a  drift.  Nevertheless,  they  managed  to  make  their 
way  clear  to  the  huge  stone  that  had  once  been  hurled 
by  a  giant  at  Svartsjo  church.  Jan  had  already  got  past 
it  when  Katrina,  who  was  a  little  way  behind  him,  gave 
a  shriek. 

"Jan!"  she  cried  out.  And  Jan  had  not  heard  her 
sound  so  frightened  since  the  day  Lars  threatened  to 
take  their  home  away  from  them.  "Can't  you  see 
there's  some  one  sitting  here?" 

Jan  turned  and  went  back  to  Katrina.  And  now 
the  two  of  them  came  near  taking  to  their  heels;  for, 
sure  enough,  propped  against  the  stone  and  almost 
covered  with  rim  frost  sat  a  giant  troll,  with  a  bristly 
beard  and  a  beak-like  nose! 

The  troll,  or  whatever  it  was,  sat  quite  motionless. 


.  AN  OLD  TROLL  239 

It  had  become  so  paralyzed  from  the  cold  that  it  had 
not  been  able  to  get  back  to  its  cave,  or  wherever  else 
it  kept  itself  nowadays. 

"Think  that  there  really  are  such  creatures  after  all!" 
said  Katrina.  "I  should  never  have  believed  it,  for 
all  I've  heard  so  much  about  them." 

Jan  was  the  first  to  recover  his  senses  and  to  see 
what  it  was  they  had  come  upon. 

"It's  no  troll,  Katrina,"  he  said.  "It's  Agrippa 
Prastberg." 

"Sakes  alive!"  gasped  Katrina.  "You  don't  tell 
me!  From  the  look  of  him  he  could  easily  be  mis- 
taken for  a  troll." 

"He  has  just  fallen  asleep  here,"  observed  Jan. 
"He  can't  be  dead,  surely!" 

They  shouted  the  old  man's  name  and  shook  him; 
but  he  never  stirred. 

"Run  back  for  the  sled,  Katrina,"  said  Jan,  "so 
we  can  draw  him  home.  I'll  stay  here  and  rub  him 
with  snow  till  he  wakes  up." 

"Just  so  you  don't  freeze  to  death  yourself!" 

"My  dear  Katrina,"  laughed  Jan,  "I  haven't  felt 
as  warm  as  I  feel  now  in  many  a  day.  I'm  so  happy 
about  the  little  girl!     Wasn't  it  dear  of  her  to  send  us 


240     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

out  here  to  save  the  life  of  him  who  has  gone  around 
spreading  so  many  Hes  about  her?" 

A  week  or  two  later,  as  Jan  was  returning  from  his 
work  one  evening,  he  met  Agrippa  Prastberg. 

"I'm  right  and  fit  again,"  Agrippa  told  him.  "But 
I  know  well  enough  that  if  you  and  Katrina  had  not 
come  to  the  rescue  there  wouldn't  have  been  much  left 
of  Johan  Utter  Agrippa  Prastberg  by  now.  So  I've 
wondered  what  I  could  do  for  you  in  return." 

"Oh,  don't  give  that  a  thought,  my  good  Agrippa 
Prastberg!"  said  Jan,  with  that  upward  imperial  sweep 
of  the  hand. 

"Hush  now,  while  I  tell  you!"  spoke  Prastberg. 
"When  I  said  I'd  thought  of  doing  you  a  return  service, 
it  wasn't  just  empty  chatter.  I  meant  it.  And  now 
it  has  already  been  done.  The  other  day  I  ran  across 
the  travelling  salesman  who  gave  that  lass  of  yours 
the  red  dress." 

"Who?"  cried  Jan,  so  excited  he  could  hardly  get 
his  breath. 

"That  blackguard  who  gave  the  girl  the  red  dress 
and  who  afterward  sent  her  to  the  devil  in  Stockholm. 
First  I  gave  him,  on  your  account,  all  the  thrashing 


AN  OLD  TROLL  241 

he  could  take,  and  then  I  told  him  that  the  next  time 
he  showed  his  face  around  here  he'd  get  just  as  big  a 
dose  of  the  same  kind  of  medicine." 

Jan  would  not  believe  he  had  heard  aright.  "But 
what  did  he  say?"  he  questioned  eagerly.  "Didn't 
you  ask  him  about  Glory  Goldie  ?  Had  he  no  greetings 
from  her.?" 

"What  could  he  say?  He  took  his  punishment  and 
held  his  tongue.  Now  I've  done  you  a  decent  turn,  Jan 
Anderson,  and  we're  even.  Johan  Utter  Agrippa 
Prastberg  wants  no  unpaid  scores." 

With  that  he  strode  on,  leaving  Jan  in  the  middle  of 
the  road,  lamenting  loudly.  The  little  girl  had  wanted 
to  send  him  a  message!  That  merchant  had  come 
with  greetings  from  her,  but  not  a  thing  had  he  learned 
because  the  man  had  been  driven  away. 

Jan  stood  wringing  his  hands.  He  did  not  weep, 
but  he  ached  all  over  worse  than  if  he  were  ill.  He  felt 
certain  in  his  own  mind  that  Glory  Goldie  had  wanted 
Prastberg  to  take  a  message  from  her  brought  by  the 
merchant  and  convey  it  to  her  father.  But  it  was  with 
Prastberg  as  with  the  trolls — whether  they  wanted  to 
help  or  hinder  they  only  wrought  mischief. 


THE  SUNDAY  AFTER  MIDSUMMER 

THE  first  Sunday  after  Midsummer  Day  there 
was  a  grand  party  at  the  seine-maker's  to 
which  every  one  in  the  Ashdales  had  been  in- 
vited. The  old  man  and  his  daughter-in-law  were  in  the 
habit  of  entertaining  the  whole  countryside  on  this  day 
of  each  year. 

Folks  wondered,  of  course,  how  two  people  who  were 
so  pitiably  poor  could  afford  to  give  a  big  feast,  but  to 
all  who  knew  the  whys  and  wherefores  it  seemed  per- 
fectly natural. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  when  the  seine-maker  was  a  rich 
man  he  gave  his  two  sons  a  farmstead  each.  The  elder 
son  wasted  his  substance  in  much  the  same  way  as 
or  Bengtsa  himself  had  done,  and  died  poor.  The 
younger  son,  who  was  the  more  steady  and  reliable, 
kept  his  portion  and  even  increased  it,  so  that  now  he 
was  quite  well-to-do.  But  what  he  owned  at  the  pres- 
ent time  was  as  nothing  to  what  he  might  have  had  if 

his  father  had  not  recklessly  made  away  with  both  money 

242 


THE  SUNDAY  AFTER  MIDSUMMER    243 

and  lands,  to  no  purpose  whatever.  If  such  wealth 
had  only  come  into  the  hands  of  the  son  in  his  younger 
days,  there  is  no  telling  to  what  he  might  have  at- 
tained. He  could  have  been  owner  of  all  the  wood- 
lands in  the  Lovsjo  district,  had  a  shop  at  Broby,  and  a 
steamer  plying  Lake  Loven;  he  might  even  have  been 
master  of  the  ironworks  at  Ekeby.  Naturally  he  found 
it  difficult  to  excuse  the  father's  careless  business  meth- 
ods, but  he  kept  his  thoughts  to  himself. 

When  the  crash  came  for  01'  Bengtsa,  a  good  many 
persons,  Bengtsa  among  them,  expected  the  son  to 
come  to  his  aid  by  the  sacrifice  of  his  own  property. 
But  what  good  would  that  have  done?  It  would  only 
have  gone  to  the  creditors.  It  was  with  the  idea  in 
mind  that  the  father  should  have  something  to  fall 
back  upon  when  all  his  possessions  were  gone,  that  the 
son  had  held  on  to  his  own. 

It  was  not  the  fault  of  the  younger  son  that  01' 
Bengtsa  had  taken  up  his  abode  with  the  widow  of 
the  elder  son,  for  he  had  begged  the  father  more  than  a 
hundred  times  to  come  and  five  with  him.  The  father's 
refusal  to  accept  this  offer  seemed  almost  like  an  act  of 
injustice;  for  because  of  it  the  son  got  the  name  of 
being  mean  and  hard-hearted  among  those  who  knew 


244     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

the  old  man  was  badly  off.  Still,  there  was  no  ill-feeling 
between  the  two. 

The  son,  accompanied  by  his  wife  and  children,  always 
drove  down  to  the  Ashdales  over  the  steep  and  perilous 
mountain  road  once  every  summer,  just  to  spend  a  day 
with  his  father. 

If  people  had  only  known  how  badly  he  and  his  wife 
felt  every  time  they  saw  the  wretched  hovel,  the  ram- 
shackle outhouse,  the  stony  potato  patch,  and  the  sister- 
in-law's  ragged  children,  they  would  have  understood 
how  his  heart  went  out  to  his  father.  The  worst  of  all 
was  that  the  father  persisted  in  giving  a  big  party  in 
their  honour.  Every  time  they  bade  the  old  man 
good-bye  they  begged  him  not  to  invite  all  the  neighbours 
in  when  they  came  again  the  next  year;  but  he  was 
obdurate;  he  would  not  forego  his  yearly  feast,  though 
he  could  ill  afford  the  expense.  Seeing  how  aged  and 
broken  he  looked,  one  would  hardly  have  thought  there 
was  so  much  of  the  old  happy-go-lucky  01'  Bengtsa  of 
Lusterby  still  left  in  him,  but  the  desire  to  do  things 
on  a  grand  scale  still  clung  to  him.  It  had  caused 
him  misfortune  from  which  he  could  never  recover. 

The  son  had  learned  inadvertently  that  the  old  man 
and  the  sister-in-law  scrimped  the  whole  year  just  to  be 


THE  SUNDAY  AFTER  MIDSUMMER    245 

able  to  give  a  grand  spread  on  the  day  he  was  at  home. 
And  then  it  was  nothing  but  eat,  eat  the  whole  time! 
He  and  his  family  were  hardly  out  of  the  wagon  before 
they  were  served  with  coflFee  and  all  kinds  of  tempting 
appetizers.  And  later  came  the  dinner  to  all  the  neigh- 
bours with  a  fish  course,  a  meat  course,  and  game,  and 
rice-cakes,  and  fruit-mold  with  whipped  cream,  and 
quantities  of  wines  and  spirits.  It  was  enough  to  make 
one  weep !  He  and  his  wife  did  nothing  to  encourage  this 
foolishness.  On  the  contrary,  they  brought  with  them 
only  such  plain  fare  as  they  were  accustomed  to  have 
every  day;  but  for  all  that  they  could  not  escape  the 
feasting.  Sometimes  they  felt  that  rather  than  let  the 
old  man  ruin  himself  on  their  account  they  might 
better  remain  away  altogether.  Yet  they  feared  to  do 
so,  lest  their  good  intentions  should  be  misinterpreted. 

And  what  a  strange  company  they  were  thrown  in 
with  at  these  parties — old  blacksmiths  and  fishermen 
and  backwoodsmen!  If  such  good,  substantial  folk 
as  the  Falla  family  had  not  been  in  the  habit  of  coming, 
too,  there  would  have  been  no  one  there  with  whom 
they  could  have  exchanged  a  word. 

or  Bengtsa's  son  had  liked  the  late  Eric  of  Falla 
best,  but  he  also  entertained  in  a  high  regard  for  Lars 


246     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

Gunnarson,  the  present  master  of  Falla.  Lars  Gun- 
narson  came  of  rather  obscure  people,  but  he  was  a  man 
who  had  the  good  sense  to  marry  well,  and  who  would 
doubtless  forge  ahead  and  gain  for  himself  both  wealth 
and  position.  When  the  old  man  told  his  son  that  Lars 
Gunnarson  was  not  likely  to  come  to  the  party  this 
year,  the  latter  was  very  much  disappointed. 

"But  it's  no  fault  of  mine,"  01'  Bengsta  declared. 
"Lars  isn't  exactly  my  kind,  but  all  the  same,  on  your 
account,  I  went  down  to  Falla  yesterday  and  invited 
him." 

"Maybe  he's  weary  of  these  parties,"  said  the  son. 

"Oh,  no,"  returned  01'  Bengtsa.  "I'm  sure  he'd  be 
only  too  glad  to  come,  but  there's  something  that's 
keeping  him  away."  He  did  not  explain  further  just 
then,  but  while  they  were  having  their  coffee,  he  went 
back  to  the  subject.  "You  mustn't  feel  so  badly  be- 
cause Lars  isn't  coming  this  evening,"  he  said.  **I 
don't  believe  you'd  care  for  his  company  any  more." 

"You  don't  mean  that  he  has  taken  to  drink?" 

"That  wasn't  such  a  bad  guess!  He  took  to  it 
suddenly  in  the  spring,  and  since  Midsummer  Day  he 
hasn't  drawn  a  sober  breath." 

During  these  visits  the  father  and  son  immediately 


THE  SUNDAY  AFTER  MIDSUMMER    247 

they  had  finished  their  coffee  always  went  fishing.  The 
old  man  usually  kept  very  still  on  these  occasions,  so 
as  not  to  scare  the  fish  away,  but  this  year  was  the 
exception.  He  spoke  to  the  son  time  and  again.  His 
words  came  with  difficulty,  as  always,  still  there  seemed 
to  be  more  Hfe  in  him  now  than  ordinarily.  Evidently 
there  was  something  special  he  wanted  to  say,  or  rather 
something  he  wished  to  draw  from  his  son.  He  was  like 
one  who  stands  outside  an  empty  house  shouting  and 
calling,  in  the  hope  that  somebody  will  come  and  open 
the  door  to  him. 

He  harked  back  to  Lars  Gunnarson  several  times, 
relating  in  part  what  had  occurred  at  the  catechetical 
meeting,  and  he  even  dragged  in  all  the  gossip  that  had 
been  circulated  about  Lars  in  the  Ashdales  since  Eric's 
death. 

The  son  granted  that  Lars  might  not  be  altogether 
blameless;  if  he  had  now  begun  drinking  it  was  a  bad 
sign. 

"I'm  curious  to  see  how  he'll  get  through  this  day," 
said  or  Bengtsa. 

Just  then  the  son  felt  a  nibble,  and  did  not  have  to 
answer.  There  was  nothing  in  this  whole  story  that 
had  any  bearing  upon  the  common  interests  of  himself 


248     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

and  his  father,  yet  he  could  not  but  feel  there  was  some 
hidden  intent  back  of  the  old  man's  words. 

"I  hope  he'll  drive  over  to  the  parsonage  this  even- 
ing," pursued  01'  Bengtsa.  "There  is  forgiveness  of 
sins  for  him  who  will  seek  it," 

A  long  silence  ensued.  The  son  was  too  busy  bait- 
ing his  hook  to  think  of  replying.  Besides,  this  was  not 
anything  which  called  for  a  response.  Presently  there 
came  from  the  old  man  such  a  heavy  sigh  that  he  had 
to  look  over  toward  him. 

"Father!  Can't  you  see  you've  got  a  nibble?  I 
believe  you  are  letting  the  perch  jerk  the  rod  away 
from  you." 

The  old  man  quickly  pulled  up  his  line  and  released 
the  fish  from  the  hook.  His  fingers  seemed  to  be  all 
thumbs  and  the  perch  slipped  from  his  hands  back  into 
the  water. 

"It  isn't  meant  that  I  shall  catch  any  fish  to-day, 
however  much  I  may  want  to." 

Yes,  there  was  certainly  something  he  wished  the 
son  to  say — to  confess — but  surely  he  did  not  expect 
him  to  liken  himself  to  one  who  was  suspected  of  having 
caused  the  death  of  his  father-in-law? 

or  Bengtsa  did  not  bait  his  hook  again.     He  stood 


THE  SUNDAY  AFTER  MIDSUMMER    249 

upon  a  stone,  with  his  hands  folded — his  half-dead  eyes 
fixed  on  the  smooth  water. 

"Yes — there  is  pardon  for  all,'*  he  said  musingly,  "for 
all  who  let  their  old  parents  lie  waiting  and  freezing  in 
icy  chilliness — pardon  even  to  this  day.  But  after- 
ward it  will  be  too  late!" 

Surely  this  could  never  have  been  said  for  the  son's 
benefit.  The  father  was  no  doubt  thinking  aloud,  as  is 
the  habit  of  old  people. 

Anyhow,  the  son  thought  he  would  try  to  make  the 
old  man  talk  about  something  else.     So  he  said: 

"How  is  the  man  who  went  crazy  last  year  getting 
on?" 

"Oh,  you  mean  Jan  of  RufHuck!  Well,  he  has  been 
in  his  right  mind  since  last  fall.  He'll  not  be  at  the 
party,  either.  He's  only  a  poor  crofter  like  myself; 
so  him  you'll  not  miss,  of  course." 

This  was  true  enough.  However,  the  son  was  so  glad 
of  an  excuse  to  speak  of  some  one  other  than  Lars  Gun- 
narson,  that  he  asked  with  genuine  concern  what  was 
wrong  with  Jan  of  Ruffluck. 

"Oh,  he's  just  sick  from  pining  for  a  daughter  who 
went  away  about  two  years  ago,  and  who  never  writes 
to  him." 


250     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

"The  girl  who  went  wrong?" 

"So  you  knew  about  it,  eh?  But  it  isn*t  because  of 
that  he's  grieving  himself  to  death.  It  is  the  awful 
hardness  and  lack  of  love  that  he  can't  bear  up  under." 

This  forced  colloquy  was  becoming  intolerable.  It 
made  the  son  feel  all  the  more  uncomfortable. 

"I'm  going  over  to  the  stone  farthest  out,"  he  said. 
"I  see  a  lot  of  fish  splashing  round  it." 

By  that  move  he  was  out  of  earshot  of  his  father, 
and  there  was  no  further  conversation  between  them 
for  the  remainder  of  the  forenoon.  But  go  where  he 
would,  he  felt  that  the  dim,  lustreless  eyes  of  the  old 
man  were  following  him.  And  this  time  he  was  actually 
glad  when  the  guests  arrived. 

The  dinner  was  served  out  of  doors.  When  01* 
Bengtsa  had  taken  his  place  at  the  board  he  tried  to  cast 
off  all  worry  and  anxiety.  When  acting  as  host  at  a 
party,  so  much  of  the  01'  Bengtsa  of  bygone  days  came 
to  the  fore  it  was  easy  to  guess  what  manner  of  man  he 
had  once  been. 

No  one  from  Falla  was  present.  But  it  was  plain  that 
Lars  Gunnarson  was  in  every  one's  thoughts;  which  was 
not  surprising  since  this  was  the  day  he  had  been  warned 
to  look  out  for.    Now  of  course  01'  Bengtsa's  son  had  to 


THE  SUNDAY  AFTER  MIDSUMMER    251 

listen  to  further  talk  about  the  catechetical  meeting 
at  Falla,  and  he  heard  more  about  the  pastor's  extraor- 
dinary dissertation  on  the  duties  of  children  toward 
their  parents  than  he  cared  to  hear.  However,  he  said 
nothing;  but  01'  Bengtsa  must  have  noticed  that  he 
was  beginning  to  be  bored,  for  he  turned  to  him  with 
the  remark: 

"What  do  you  say  to  all  this.  Nils ?  I  suppose  you're 
sitting  there  thinking  to  yourself  it's  very  strange  Our 
Lord  hasn't  written  a  commandment  for  parents  on 
how  they  shall  treat  their  children?" 

This  was  wholly  unexpected.  The  son  could  feel  the 
blood  mounting  to  his  face.  It  was  as  if  he  had  done 
something  dreadful,  and  been  caught  at  it. 

"But  my  dear  father!"  he  protested,  "I've  never  said 
or  thought " 

"True,"  the  old  man  struck  in,  turning  novr  to  his 
guests.  "I  know  you  will  hardly  believe  what  I  tell 
you,  but  it's  a  fact  that  this  son  of  mine  has  never 
spoken  an  unkind  word  to  me;  neither  has  his  wife." 

These  remarks  were  not  addressed  to  any  one  in  par- 
ticular, nor  did  any  one  feel  disposed  to  respond  to 
them. 

"They  have  been  put  to  some  pretty  hard  teats," 


252     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

or  Bengtsa  went  on.  "It  was  a  large  property  they 
were  deprived  of.  They  could  have  been  landed  pro- 
prietors by  this  time  if  I  had  only  done  the  right  thing. 
Yet  they  have  never  uttered  a  word  of  complaint  and 
every  summer  they  pay  me  a  visit,  just  to  show  they 
are  not  angry  with  me." 

The  old  man's  face  looked  so  dead  now,  and  his  voice 
sounded  so  hollow!  The  son  could  not  tell  whether  he 
was  trying  to  come  out  with  something  or  whether  he 
talked  merely  for  talk's  sake. 

"Now  it's  altogether  different  with  Lisa,"  said  OF 
Bengtsa,  pointing  at  the  daughter-in-law  with  whom  he 
lived.  "She  scolds  me  every  day  for  not  holding  on  to 
my  property." 

The  daughter-in-law,  not  in  the  least  perturbed,  re- 
torted with  a  good-natured  laugh:  "And  you  scold  me 
because  I  can't  find  time  to  patch  all  the  holes  in  the 
boys'  clothes." 

"That's  true,"  the  old  man  admitted.  "You  see,  we're 
not  shy;  we  say  right  out  what  we  think  and  tell  each 
other  everything.  What  I've  got  is  hers,  and  what  she's 
got  is  mine;  so  I'm  beginning  to  think  it  is  she  who  is  my 
real  child." 

Again  the  son  felt  embarrassed,  and  troubled  as  well. 


THE  SUNDAY  AFTER  MIDSUMMER    253 

There  was  something  the  old  man  wanted  to  force  from 
him — something  of  a  personal  nature;  but  surely  he 
could  not  expect  it  to  be  forthcoming  here,  before  all 
this  company? 

It  was  a  great  relief  to  the  son  of  01*  Bengtsa  when  on 
looking  up  he  saw  Lars  Gunnarson  and  his  wife  stand- 
ing at  the  gate.  Not  he  alone,  but  every  one  was  glad 
to  see  them.  Now  it  was  as  if  all  their  gloomy  mis- 
givings had  suddenly  been  dispelled. 

Lars  and  his  wife  made  profuse  apologies  for  being  so 
late.  Lars  had  been  suffering  from  a  bad  headache  and 
had  feared  he  would  not  be  able  to  come  at  all;  but  it 
had  abated  somewhat  so  he  decided  to  come  to  the 
party,  thinking  he  would  forget  about  his  aches  and 
pains  if  he  got  out  among  people. 

He  looked  a  bit  hollow-eyed,  but  he  was  as  jolly  and 
sociable  as  he  had  been  the  year  before.  He  had 
barely  got  down  the  first  mouthful  of  food  when  he  and 
the  son  of  01*  Bengtsa  fell  to  talking  of  the  lumber  busi- 
ness, of  big  profits  and  interest  on  loans. 

The  poor  rustics  round  about  them,  aghast  at  the 
mere  mention  of  these  large  figures,  were  afraid  to  open 
their  mouths.  01'  Bengtsa  was  the  only  one  who 
wanted  to  have  his  say  in  the  matter. 


254     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

"Since  you*re  talking  of  money,'*  he  said,  "I  wonder, 
Nils,  if  you  remember  that  note  for  17,000  rix-dollars 
I  got  from  the  old  ironmaster  at  Doveness  ?  It  was  mis- 
laid, if  you  recollect,  and  couldn't  be  found  at  the 
time  when  I  was  in  such  hard  straits.  Just  the  same, 
I  wrote  to  the  ironmaster  requesting  immediate  pay- 
ment; but  received  the  reply  that  he  was  dying.  Later 
on,  after  his  death,  the  administrators  of  the  estate 
declared  they  could  find  no  record  of  my  claim.  I 
was  informed  that  it  wasn't  possible  for  them  to  pay 
me  unless  I  produced  the  note.  We  searched  high 
and  low  for  it,  both  I  and  my  sons,  but  we  couldn't 
find  it." 

"You  don't  mean  to  tell  me  that  you've  come  across  it 
at  last!"  the  son  exclaimed. 

"It  was  the  strangest  thing  imaginable!"  the  old 
man  went  on.  "Jan  of  Ruffluck  came  over  here  one 
morning  and  told  me  he  knew  for  a  certainty  that 
the  note  was  in  the  secret  drawer  of  my  cedar  chest. 
He  had  seen  me  take  it  out  in  a  dream,  he  said." 

"But  you  must  have  looked  there?" 

"Yes,  I  did  search  through  the  secret  drawer  on  the 
left-hand  side.  But  Jan  said  it  was  in  the  drawer  on 
the  right,  and  then,  when  I  looked  more  carefully,  I 


THE  SUNDAY  AFTER  MIDSUMMER    255 

found  a  secret  drawer  that  I'd  never  known  about;  and 
in  that  lay  the  note." 

"You  probably  put  it  there  some  time  when  you  were 
in  your  cups." 

"VeryHkelyldid." 

The  son  laid  down  his  knife  and  fork  for  a  moment, 
then  took  them  up  again.  Something  in  the  old  man's 
tone  made  him  a  bit  wary.  "Maybe  it's  just  a  hoax," 
he  thought  to  himself.  Aloud  he  said,  "It  was  out- 
lawed, of  course  ? " 

"Oh,  yes,"  replied  the  old  man,  "it  would  doubtless 
have  been  so  regarded  by  any  other  debtor.  But  I 
rowed  across  to  Doveness  one  day  and  took  the  note 
to  the  new  ironmaster,  who  admitted  at  once  that  it 
was  good.  *It*s  as  clear  as  day  that  I  must  pay  my 
father*s  debt,  01'  Bengtsa,'  he  said.  'But  you'll  have 
to  give  me  a  few  weeks'  grace.  It  is  a  large  sum  to  pay 
out  all  at  once.'" 

"That  was  spoken  like  a  man  of  honour!"  said  the 
son,  bringing  his  hand  down  heavily  on  the  table.  A 
sense  of  gladness  stole  in  upon  him  in  spite  of  his  sus- 
picions. To  think  that  it  was  something  so  splendid 
the  old  man  had  been  holding  back  from  him  the  whole 
day! 


2s6     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

"I  told  the  ironmaster  that  he  needn't  pay  me  just 
then;  that  if  he  would  only  give  me  a  new  note  the 
money  could  remain  in  his  safekeeping." 

"That  was  well,"  said  the  son  approvingly.  There 
was  a  strong,  glad  ring  in  his  voice,  that  betrayed  an  ea- 
gerness he  would  rather  not  have  shown,  for  he  knew  of 
old  that  one  could  never  be  quite  sure  of  01*  Bengtsa 
— in  the  very  next  breath  he  might  say  it  was  just  a 
yarn. 

"You  don't  beheve  me,"  observed  the  old  man. 
"Would  you  like  to  see  the  note?  Run  in  and  get  it, 
Lisa!" 

Almost  immediately  the  son  had  the  note  before  his 
eyes.  First  he  glanced  at  the  signature,  and  recognized 
the  firm,  legible  hand  of  the  ironmaster.  Then  he 
looked  at  the  figures,  and  found  them  correct.  He 
nodded  to  his  wife,  who  sat  opposite  him,  that  it  was  all 
right,  at  the  same  time  passing  the  note  to  her,  knowing 
how  interested  she  would  be  to  see  it. 

The  wife  examined  the  note  carefully.  "  What  does 
this  mean?"  she  asked — "'Payable  to  Lisa  Persdotter 
of  Lusterby' — is  Lisa  to  have  the  money?" 

"Yes,"  the  old  man  answered.  "  She  gets  this  money 
because  she  has  been  a  good  daughter  to  roe." 


THE  SUNDAY  AFTER  MIDSUMMER    257 

"  But  this  is  unfair '* 

"No,  it  is  not  unfair,"  drawled  the  old  man  in  a  tired 
voice.  "I  have  squared  myself  and  owe  nobody  any- 
thing. I  might  have  had  one  other  creditor,"  he  added, 
turning  to  this  son,  "but  after  looking  into  matters, 
I  find  that  I  haven't." 

"You  mean  me,  I  suppose,"  said  the  son.     "But 

you  don't  seem  to  think  I "    All  that  the  son  had 

wanted  to  say  to  the  father  was  left  unsaid,  as  he  was 
interrupted  by  a  piercing  shriek  from  the  opposite  side 
of  the  table. 

Lars  Gunnarson  had  just  seized  a  bottle  of 
brandy  and  put  it  to  his  mouth.  His  wife,  screaming 
from  terror,  was  trying  to  take  it  from  him.  He  held 
her  back  until  he  had  emptied  half  the  contents,  where- 
upon he  set  the  bottle  down  and  turned  to  his  wife,  his 
face  flushed,  his  eyes  staring  wildly,  his  hands  clenched. 

"Didn't  you  hear  it  was  Jan  who  found  the  note?'* 
he  said  in  a  hoarse  voice.  "All  his  dreams  come  true! 
Can't  you  comprehend  that  the  man  has  the  gift  of 
second  sight?  You'll  see  that  something  dreadful  will 
happen  to  me  this  day,  as  he  has  predicted." 

"Why  he  has  only  cautioned  you  to  be  on  your 
guard,"  said  the  wife. 


258     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

"You  begged  and  teased  me  to  come  here  so  that  I 
should  forget  what  day  it  was,  and  now  I  get  this  re- 
minder!" 

Again  Lars  raised  the  brandy  bottle  to  his  lips.  This 
time,  however,  the  wife  cast  herself  upon  him  with 
prayers  and  tears.  Replacing  the  bottle  on  the  table, 
he  said  with  a  laugh :  "  Keep  it  I  Keep  it  for  all  of  me !  '* 
With  that  he  rose  and  kicked  the  chair  out  of  his  way. 
**  Good-bye  to  you,  01'  Bengtsa,"  he  said  to  the  host. 
"I  hope  you  will  pardon  my  leaving,  but  to-day  I 
must  go  to  a  place  where  I  can  drink  in  peace." 

He  rushed  toward  the  gate,  his  wife  following.  When 
he  was  passing  out  into  the  road,  he  pushed  her  back. 
"Why  can't  you  let  me  be!"  he  cried  fiercely.  "I've 
had  my  warning,  and  I  go  to  meet  my  doom!" 


SUMMERNIGHT 

A  LL  day,  while  the  party  was  going  on  at  the 
/  %  seine-maker's,  Jan  of  Ruffluck  kept  to  his  hut. 
■^  -^  But  at  evening  he  went  out  and  sat  down  up- 
on the  flat  stone  in  front  of  the  house,  as  was  his  wont. 
He  was  not  ill  exactly,  but  he  felt  weak  and  tired.  The 
hut  had  become  so  overheated  during  the  long,  hot 
sunny  day  that  he  thought  it  would  be  nice  to  get 
a  breath  of  fresh  air.  He  found,  however,  that  it  was 
not  much  cooler  outside,  but  he  sat  still  all  the  same, 
mostly  because  there  was  so  much  out  here  that  was 
beautiful  to  the  eye. 

It  had  been  an  excessively  hot  and  dry  month  of 
June  and  forest  fires,  which  always  rage  every  rainless 
summer,  had  already  got  going.  This  he  could  tell 
by  the  pretty  bluish-white  smoke  banks  that  rose 
above  the  hills  at  the  other  side  of  the  lake.  Pres- 
ently, away  off  to  southward,  a  shimmery  white  curly 
cloud  head  appeared,  while  in  the  west,  over  against 
Great  Peak,  huge  smoke-blended  clouds  rolled  up  and 

259 


26o     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

up.  It  seemed  to  him  as  if  the  whole  world  were 
afire. 

No  flames  could  be  seen  from  where  he  sat,  but  there 
was  no  mistaking  that  fire  had  broken  out  ai^d  could 
hold  sway  indefinitely.  He  only  hoped  it  would  con- 
fine itself  to  the  forest  trees,  and  not  sweep  down 
upon  huts  and  farmsteads. 

He  could  scarcely  breathe.  It  was  as  if  such  quan- 
tities of  air  had  been  consumed  that  there  was  very 
little  of  it  left.  At  short  intervals  he  sensed  an  odour, 
as  of  something  burning,  that  stuck  in  his  nostrils. 
That  odour  did  not  come  from  any  cook  stove  in  the 
Ashdales!  It  was  a  salutation  from  the  great  stake  of 
pine  needles,  and  moss,  and  brushwood  that  sizzled  and 
burned  many  miles  away. 

A  little  while  ago  the  sun  had  gone  down,  red  as 
fire,  leaving  in  its  wake  enough  colour  to  tint  the  whole 
sky,  which  was  now  rose  hued  not  only  across  that 
corner  of  it  where  the  sun  had  just  been  seen,  but  over 
its  entire  expanse.  At  the  same  time  the  waters  of 
Dove  Lake  had  become  as  dark  as  mirror  glass  in  the 
shadow  of  the  towering  hills.  In  this  black-looking 
water  ran  streaks  of  red  blood  and  molten  gold. 

It  was  the  sort  of  night  that  makes  one  feel  that  the 


SUMMERNIGHT  261 

earth  is  not  worthy  a  glance;  that  only  the  heavens  and 
the  waters  that  mirror  them  are  worth  seeing. 

As  Jan  sat  gazing  out  at  the  beauties  of  the  light 
summer  night  he  suddenly  began  to  wonder.  Could  it 
be  that  he  saw  aright?  But  it  actually  looked  as  if  the 
firmament  were  sinking.  Anyway,  to  his  vision  it  was 
much  nearer  to  the  earth  than  usual. 

Could  it  be  possible  that  something  had  gone  wrong? 
Surely  his  eyes  were  not  deceiving  him!  The  great 
pink  dome  of  sky  was  certainly  moving  down  toward 
the  earth,  and  all  the  while  it  was  becoming  hotter  and 
more  oppressive.  He  already  felt  the  terrible  heat  that 
seemed  to  come  from  the  red-hot  dome  that  was  sinking 
toward  him.  ' 

To  be  sure  Jan  had  heard  a  good  deal  of  talk  about 
the  coming  destruction  of  the  world  and  had  often 
pictured  it  as  being  effected  by  means  of  thunder-storms 
and  earthquakes  that  would  hurl  the  mountains  into 
the  seas  and  drive  the  waters  of  the  lakes  and  rivers 
over  plains  and  valleys,  so  that  all  life  would  become 
extinct.  But  he  never  imagined  the  end  should  come 
in  this  way:  by  the  earth's  burial  under  the  vault  of 
heaven  with  its  inhabitants  all  dying  from  heat  and 
suffocation !     This,  it  seemed  to  him,  was  the  worst  of  all. 


262     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

He  put  down  his  pipe,  though  it  was  only  half-smoked, 
but  remained  quietly  seated  in  the  one  spot.  For  what 
else  could  he  do?  This  was  not  something  which  he 
could  ward  off — something  he  could  run  away  from. 
One  could  not  take  up  arms  and  defend  one's  self  against 
it,  nor  find  safety  by  creeping  into  cellars  or  caves. 
Even  if  one  had  the  power  to  empty  all  the  oceans 
and  lakes,  their  waters  would  not  suffice  to  quench  the 
fires  of  the  firmament.  If  one  could  uproot  the  moun- 
tains and  prop  them,  beam-like,  against  the  sky,  they 
could  not  hold  up  this  heavy  dome  if  it  was  meant 
that  it  should  sink. 

Singularly  enough  no  one  but  himself  seemed  to  be 
aware  of  what  was  happening. 

Ah,  look!  What  was  that  that  went  shooting  up 
above  the  crest  of  the  hill  over  yonder.?  A  lot  of  black 
specks  suddenly  appeared  in  among  the  pale  smoke 
clouds.  These  specks  whirled  round  each  other  with 
such  rapidity  that  to  Jan*s  eyes  they  looked  like  a  suc- 
cession of  streaks  moving  in  much  the  same  way  as 
when  bees  swarm. 

They  were  birds  of  course.  The  strange  part  of  it 
was  that  they  had  risen  in  the  night  and  soared  into  the 
clouds. 


SUMMERNIGHT  263 

They  probably  knew  more  than  the  human  kind, 
thought  Jan,  for  they  had  sensed  that  something  was 
about  to  happen. 

Instead  of  the  air  becoming  cooler,  as  on  other  nights, 
it  grew  warmer  and  warmer.  Anything  else  was  hardly 
to  be  expected,  with  the  fiery  dome  coming  nearer  and 
nearer.  Jan  thought  it  had  already  sunk  to  the  brow 
of  Great  Peak. 

But  if  the  end  of  the  world  was  so  close  at  hand  and 
there  was  no  hope  of  his  getting  any  word  from  Glory 
Goldie,  much  less  of  his  seeing  her,  before  all  was  over, 
then  he  would  pray  for  but  a  single  grace — that  it  might 
be  made  clear  to  him  what  he  had  done  to  offend  her,  so 
that  he  could  repent  of  it  before  the  end  of  everything 
pertaining  to  the  earth  life.  What  had  he  done  that 
she  could  not  forgive  nor  forget?  Why  had  the  crown 
and  sceptre  been  taken  away  from  him.'' 

As  he  put  these  queries  to  himself  his  glance  fell 
upon  a  bit  of  gilt  paper  that  lay  glittering  on  the  ground 
in  front  of  him.  But  his  mind  was  not  on  such  things 
now.  This  must  have  been  one  of  the  paper  stars  he 
had  borrowed  of  Mad  Ingeborg.  But  he  had  not  given 
a  thought  to  this  empty  show  since  last  autumn. 

It  kept  getting  hotter  and  hotter,  and  it  was  becoming 


264     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

more  and  more  difficult  to  breathe.  "The  end  is  near- 
ing,"  thought  Jan.  "Maybe  it's  just  as  well  it  wasn't 
too  long  coming." 

A  great  sense  of  lassitude  came  over  him.  Unable  to 
•  sit  up  any  longer,  he  slipped  down  off  the  stone  and 
stretched  himself  out  on  the  ground.  He  felt  it  was 
hardly  fair  to  Katrina  not  to  let  her  know  what  was 
taking  place.  But  Katrina  had  gone  to  the  seine- 
maker's  party  and  was  not  back  yet.  If  he  only  had 
the  strength  to  drag  himself  thither!  He  would  have 
liked  to  say  a  word  of  farewell  to  01'  Bengtsa,  too.  He 
was  very  glad  when  he  presently  saw  Katrina  coming 
down  the  lane,  accompanied  by  the  seine-maker.  He 
wanted  to  call  out  to  them  to  hurry,  but  not  a  sound 
could  he  get  past  his  lips.  Shortly  afterward  the  two 
of  them  stood  bending  over  him. 

Katrina  immediately  ran  for  water  and  made  him 
drink  some;  and  then  he  got  back  just  enough  strength 
to  tell  them  that  the  Last  Judgment  was  at  hand. 

"How  you  talk!"  said  Katrina.  "The  Last  Judg- 
ment indeed!  Why,  you've  got  fever,  man,  and  you're 
out  of  your  head." 

Then  Jan  turned  to  the  seine-maker.  "Can't  you 
sec  either  that  the  firmament  is  sinking  and  sinking.^'* 


SUMMERNIGHT  265 

The  latter  did  not  give  him  any  reply,  but  turned 
instead  to  Katrina,  saying: 

"This  is  pretty  serious.  I  think  we'll  have  to  try 
the  remedy  we  talked  of  on  the  way.  I  may  as  well  go 
down  to  Falla  at  once.** 

"But  Lars  will  never  consent  to  it.** 

"Why  you  know  that  Lars  has  gone  down  to  the 
tavern.     I'm  sure  the  old  mistress  of  Falla  will  have  the 


courage 

Jan  cut  him  short.  He  could  not  bear  to  hear  them 
speak  of  commonplace  matters  when  such  momentous 
things  were  in  the  air. 

"Stop  talking,"  he  said.  "Don't  you  hear  the  last 
trump  ?  Don't  you  hear  the  rumbling  up  in  the  moun- 
tains.?" 

They  paused  a  moment  and  listened,  just  to  please 
Jan.     And  then  they,  too,  heard  a  strange  noise. 

"There's  a  wagon  rattling  along  in  the  woods," 
said  Katrina.     "What  on  earth  can  that  mean?" 

As  the  rumbling  noise  grew  more  and  more  distinct, 
their  astonishment  increased. 

"And  it's  Sunday,  too!"  observed  Katrina.  "Now  if 
this  were  a  weekday  you  could  understand  it; but  whocan 
it  be  that's  out  driving  in  the  woods  on  a  Sunday  night .? " 


266     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

She  listened  again.  Then  she  heard  the  scraping  of 
wheels  against  stones  and  the  clatter  of  hoofs  along  the 
steep  forest  road. 

"Do  you  hear?'*  asked  Jan.     "Do  you  hear?" 

"Yes,  I  hear,"  said  Katrina.  "But  no  matter  who 
comes  I've  got  to  get  the  bed  ready  for  you  at  once. 
It's  that  I  have  to  think  of." 

"And  I'm  going  down  to  Falla,"  said  the  seine- 
maker.  "That's  more  important  than  anything  else. 
Good-bye  for  the  present." 

The  old  man  hurried  away  while  Katrina  went  in  to 
prepare  the  bed;  she  was  hardly  inside  the  door  when 
the  rattling  noise,  which  she  and  the  seine-maker  be- 
lieved was  caused  by  a  common  wagon,  sounded  as  if  it 
were  almost  upon  them.  To  Jan  it  was  the  rumble 
of  heavy  war  chariots,  at  whose  approach  the  whole 
earth  trembled.  He  called  in  a  loud  voice  to  Katrina, 
who  came  out  immediately. 

"Dear  heart,  don't  be  so  scared!"  she  said  reas- 
suringly. "I  can  see  the  horse  now.  It's  the  old  bay 
from  Falla.  Sit  up  and  you'll  see  it,  too."  Slip- 
ping her  hand  under  Jan's  neck  she  raised  him  to  a 
sitting  posture.  Through  the  elder  bushes  at  the  edge 
of  the  road  a  horse  could  be  seen  running  wildly  in  the 


SUMMERNIGHT  267 

direction  of  Ruffluck.  "Don't  you  see  it's  only  Lars 
Gunnarson  driving  home?  He  must  have  drunk  him- 
self full  at  the  tavern,  for  he  doesn't  seem  to  know  which 
way  he's  going." 

When  Katrina  said  that  a  horse  and  wagon  dashed 
by  their  gate.  Both  she  and  Jan  noticed  that  the  wagon 
was  empty  and  the  horse  driverless. 

All  at  once  she  let  out  a  shriek:  "Lord  deliver  us! 
Did  you  see  him,  Jan  ?  He's  being  dragged  alongside  the 
wagon ! "  Without  waiting  for  a  reply  she  rushed  across 
the  yard  into  the  road,  where  the  horse  had  just  bolted 
past. 

Jan  let  her  go  without  a  word.  He  was  glad  to  be 
alone  again.  He  had  not  yet  found  an  answer  to  his 
query  as  to  why  the  Empress  was  angry  at  him. 

The  bit  of  gilt  paper  now  lay  directly  under  his  eyes. 
It  glistened  so  that  he  had  to  look  at  it  again  and  again. 
Meanwhile  his  thoughts  went  back  to  Mad  Ingeborg — 
to  the  time  when  he  had  come  upon  her  at  the  Borg 
landing.  It  struck  him  instantly  that  here  was  the 
answer  he  had  been  seeking.  Now  he  knew  what  it 
was  the  little  girl  had  been  displeased  about  all  this 
while.  He  had  been  unkind  to  Mad  Ingeborg;  he  should 
never  have  refused  to  let  her  go  along  to  Portugallia. 


268     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

How  could  he  ever  have  imagined  anything  so  mean 
of  the  great  Empress  as  that  she  would  not  want  to 
have  Mad  Ingeborg  with  her!  It  was  that  kind  that 
she  liked  best  to  help.  No  wonder  she  was  angry!  He 
ought  to  have  known  that  the  poor  and  unfortunate 
were  always  welcome  in  her  kingdom. 

There  was  very  little  that  could  be  done  in  this  mat- 
ter if  no  to-morrow  dawned,  mused  Jan.  But  what  if 
there  should  be  one.?  Ah,  then  he  would  go  and  talk 
with  Mad  Ingeborg  first  thing. 

He  closed  his  eyes  and  folded  his  hands.  Anyway, 
it  was  a  blissful  relief  to  him  that  this  anxiety  had  been 
stilled.  Now  it  would  not  be  nearly  so  hard  to  die. 
He  had  no  idea  as  to  how  much  time  had  elapsed  before 
he  again  heard  Katrina's  voice  close  to  him. 

"Jan,  dear,  how  do  you  feel  now?  You're  not  going 
to  die  and  leave  me,  are  you?" 

Katrina  sounded  so  doleful  that  he  had  to  look  up  at 
her.  Then  he  saw  in  her  hand  the  imperial  stick  and 
the  green  leather  cap. 

"I  asked  the  folks  down  at  Falla  to  let  me  take  these 
to  you,"  she  explained.  "I  told  them  that  come  what 
might  it  was  better  for  you  to  have  them  again  than 
to  have  you  lose  all  interest  in  life." 


SUMMERNIGHT  269 

"The  dear  little  girl,  the  great  Empress,  isn*t  she 
wonderful!"  Jan  said  to  himself.  No  sooner  had  he 
come  to  a  realization  of  his  sin  and  promised  to  atone 
for  it,  than  she  again  granted  him  her  grace  and  her 
favour. 

He  had  such  a  marvellous  feeling  of  lightness,  as  if 
a  great  weight  had  been  lifted  from  him.  The  firma- 
ment had  raised  itself  and  let  in  air,  at  the  same  time 
drawing  away  the  excessive  heat.  He  was  able  to  sit 
up  now  and  fumble  for  the  imperial  regalia. 

"Now  you  can  have  them  for  good  and  all,"  said 
Katrina.  "There'll  be  no  one  to  come  and  take  them 
away  from  you,  for  Lars  Gunnarson  is  dead." 


THE  EMPEROR'S  CONSORT 

KATRINA  of  Ruffluck  Croft  came  into  the 
kitchen  at  Lovdala  Manor  with  some  spun 
wool.  Lady  Liljecrona  herself  received  the 
yam,  weighed  it,  paid  for  it,  and  commended  the  old 
woman  for  her  excellent  work. 

"It's  fortunate  for  you,  Katrina,  that  you  are  such 
a  good  worker,"  said  Lady  Liljecrona.  "I  dare  say 
you  have  to  earn  the  living  for  both  yourself  and  the 
husband  nowadays." 

Katrina  drew  herself  up  a  bit  and  two  pink  spots 
came  into  her  face,  just  over  the  sharp  cheekbones. 

"Jan  does  his  best,"  she  retorted,  "but  he  has  never 
had  the  strength  of  a  common  labourer." 

"At  any  rate,  he  doesn't  seem  to  be  working  now," 
said  Lady  Liljecrona.  "I  have  heard  that  he  only 
runs  about  from  place  to  place,  showing  his  stars  and 
singing." 

Lady  Liljecrona  was  a  serious-minded  and  dutiful 
woman  who  liked   industrious   and   capable   folk  like 

270 


THE  EMPEROR'S  CONSORT  271 

Katrina  of  Ruffluck.  She  had  sympathy  for  her  and 
wanted  to  show  it.  But  Katrina  continued  to  stand  up 
for  her  husband. 

"He  is  old  and  has  had  much  sorrow  these  last  years. 
He  has  need  of  a  little  freedom,  after  a  lifetime  of  hard 
toil." 

"It's  well  you  can  take  your  misfortune  so  calmly," 
observed  Lady  Liljecrona  somewhat  sharply.  "But 
I  really  think  that  you,  with  your  good  sense,  should 
try  to  take  out  of  Jan  the  ridiculous  nonsense  that  has 
got  into  his  head.  You  see,  if  this  is  allowed  to  go  on  it 
will  end  in  his  being  shut  up  in  a  madhouse." 

Now  Katrina  squared  her  shoulders  and  looked  highly 
indignant. 

"Jan  is  not  crazy,"  she  said.  "But  Our  Lord  has 
placed  a  shade  before  his  eyes  so  he'll  not  have  to  see 
what  he  couldn't  bear  seeing.  And  for  that  one  can 
only  feel  thankful." 

Lady  Liljecrona  did  not  wish  to  appear  contentious. 
She  thought  it  only  right  and  proper  for  a  wife  to  stand 
by  her  husband. 

"Then,  Katrina,  everything  is  all  right  as  it  is,"  she 
said  pleasantly.  "And  don't  forget  that  here  you  will 
find  work  enough  to  keep  you  going  the  year  around." 


272     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

And  then  l^ady  Liljecrona  saw  the  stern,  set  old 
face  in  front  of  her  soften  and  relax:  all  that  had 
been  bound  in  and  held  back  gave  way — grief  and 
solicitude  and  love  came  breaking  through,  and  the  eyes 
overflowed. 

"My  only  happiness  is  to  work  for  him,*'  said  the  old 
woman.  "He  has  become  so  wonderful  with  the  years 
that  he's  something  more  than  just  human.  But  for 
that  I  suppose  they'll  come  and  take  him  away  from 
me. 


BOOK  FOUR 


THE  WELCOME  GREETING 

SHE  had  come!  The  little  girl  had  come!  It 
is  hard  to  find  words  to  describe  so  great  an 
event. 

She  did  not  arrive  till  late  in  the  autumn,  when  the 
passenger  boats  that  ply  Lake  Loven  had  discontinued 
their  trips  for  the  season  and  navigation  was  kept  up 
by  only  two  small  freight  steamers.  But  on  either  of 
these  she  had  not  cared  to  travel — or  perhaps  she  had 
not  even  known  about  them.  She  had  come  by  wagon 
from  the  railway  station  to  the  Ashdales. 

So  after  all  Jan  of  Ruffluck  did  not  have  the  pleasure 
of  welcoming  his  daughter  at  the  Borg  pier,  where  for 
fifteen  years  he  had  awaited  her  coming.  Yes,  it  was 
all  of  fifteen  years  that  she  had  been  away.  For  seven- 
teen years  she  had  been  the  light  and  life  of  his  home, 
and  for  almost  as  long  a  time  had  he  missed  her. 

It  happened  that  Jan  did  not  even  have  the  good  for- 
tune to  be  at  home  to  welcome  Glory  Goldie  when  she 
came.     He  had  just  stepped  over  to  Falla  to  chat  a 

275 


276     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

while  with  the  old  mistress,  who  had  now  moved  out  of 
the  big  farmhouse  and  was  living  in  an  attic  room  in 
one  of  the  cottages  on  the  estate.  She  was  one 
of  many  lonely  old  people  on  whom  the  Emperor  of 
Portugallia  peeped  in  occasionally,  to  speak  a  word  of 
cheer  so  as  to  keep  them  in  good  spirits. 

It  was  only  Katrina  who  stood  at  the  door  and  re- 
ceived the  little  girl  on  her  homecoming.  She  had  been 
sitting  at  the  spinning  wheel  all  day  and  had  just  stopped 
to  rest  for  a  moment,  when  she  heard  the  rattle  of  a 
team  down  the  road.  It  so  seldom  happened  that  any 
one  drove  through  the  Ashdales  that  she  stepped  to  the 
door  to  listen.  Then  she  discovered  that  it  was  not  a 
common  cart  that  was  coming,  but  a  spring  wagon. 
All  at  once  her  hands  began  to  tremble.  They  had  a 
way  of  doing  that  now  whenever  she  became  frightened 
or  perturbed.  Otherwise,  she  was  well  and  strong 
despite  her  two  and  seventy  years.  She  was  only  fear- 
ful lest  this  trembling  of  the  hands  should  increase  so 
that  she  would  no  longer  be  able  to  earn  the  bread  for 
herself  and  Jan,  as  she  had  done  thus  far. 

By  this  time  Katrina  had  practically  abandoned  all 
hope  of  ever  seeing  the  daughter  again,  and  that  day 
she  had  not  even  been  in  her  thought.     But  instantly 


THE  WELCOME  GREETING  277 

she  heard  the  rumble  of  wagon  wheels  she  knew  for  a 
certainty  who  was  coming.  She  went  over  to  the  chest 
of  drawers  to  take  out  a  fresh  apron,  but  her  hands  shook 
so  hard  that  she  could  not  insert  the  key  into  the  key- 
hole. Now  it  was  impossible  for  her  to  better  her 
attire,  therefore  she  had  to  go  meet  her  daughter 
just  as  she  was. 

The  little  girl  did  not  come  in  any  golden  chariot, 
she  was  not  even  seated  in  the  wagon,  but  came  afoot. 
The  road  to  the  Ashdales  was  as  rocky  then  as  at  the 
time  when  Eric  of  Falla  and  his  wife  had  driven  her  to 
the  parsonage,  to  have  her  christened,  and  now  she 
and  the  driver  tramped  on  either  side  of  the  wagon 
steadying  a  couple  of  large  trunks  that  stood  on  end 
behind  the  seat,  to  prevent  them  being  jolted  into  the 
ditch.  She  arrived  with  no  more  pomp  and  state  than 
this,  and  more  was  perhaps  not  called  for  either. 

Katrina  had  just  got  the  outer  door  open  when  the 
wagon  stopped  in  front  of  the  gate.  She  should  have 
gone  and  opened  the  gate,  of  course,  but  she  did  not 
do  so.  She  felt  all  at  once  such  a  sinking  at  the  heart 
that  she  was  unable  to  take  a  step. 

She  knew  it  was  Glory  Goldie  who  had  come,  although 
the  person  who  now  pushed  the  gate  open  looked  like 


278     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

a  grand  lady.  On  her  head  was  a  large  hat  trimmed 
with  plumes  and  flowers  and  she  wore  a  smart  coat 
and  skirt  of  fine  cloth;  but  all  the  same  it  was  the  little 
girl  of  Ruffluck  Croft! 

Glory  Goldie,  hurrying  into  the  yard  in  advance  of  the 
team,  rushed  up  to  her  mother  with  outstretched  hand. 
But  Katrina  shut  her  eyes  and  stood  still.  So  many 
bitter  thoughts  arose  in  her  at  that  moment !  She  felt 
that  she  could  never  forgive  the  daughter  for  being 
alive  and  coming  back  so  sound  of  wind  and  limb,  after 
letting  her  parents  wait  in  vain  for  her  all  these  years. 
She  almost  wished  the  daughter  had  never  bothered  to 
come  home. 

Katrina  must  have  looked  as  if  ready  to  drop,  for 
Glory  Goldie  quickly  threw  her  arms  around  her  and 
almost  carried  her  into  the  house. 

"  Mother  dear,  you  mustn't  be  so  frightened !  Don't 
you  know  me  ? " 

Katrina  opened  her  eyes  and  regarded  the  daughter 
scrutinizingly.  She  was  a  sensible  person,  was  Katrina, 
and  of  course  she  did  not  expect  that  one  whom  she  had 
not  seen  in  fifteen  years  should  look  exactly  as  she  had 
looked  when  leaving  home.  Nevertheless,  she  was  hor- 
rified at  what  she  beheld. 


THE  WELCOME  GREETING  279 

The  person  standing  before  her  appeared  much  older 
than  her  years;  for  she  was  only  two  and  thirty.  But 
it  was  not  because  Glory  Goldie  had  turned  gray  at  the 
temples  and  her  forehead  was  covered  with  a  mass  of 
wrinkles  that  Katrina  was  shocked,  but  because  she  had 
grown  ugly.  She  had  acquired  an  unnatural  leaden 
hue  and  there  was  something  heavy  and  gross  about 
her  mouth.  The  whites  of  her  eyes  had  become  gray 
and  bloodshot,  and  the  skin  under  her  eyes  hung  in 
sacks. 

Katrina  had  sunk  down  on  a  chair.  She  sat  with 
her  hands  tightly  clasped  round  her  knees  to  keep  them 
from  shaking.  She  was  thinking  of  the  radiant  young 
girl  of  seventeen  in  the  red  dress;  for  thus  had  she 
lived  in  Katrina's  memory  up  to  the  present  moment. 
She  wondered  whether  she  could  ever  be  happy  over 
Glory  Goldie's  return. 

"You  should  have  written,"  she  said.  "You  should 
at  least  have  sent  us  a  greeting,  so  that  we  could  have 
known  you  were  still  in  the  land  of  the  living." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  said  the  daughter.  Her  voice,  at 
least,  had  not  failed  her;  it  sounded  as  confident  and 
cheery  as  of  old.  "I  went  wrong  in  the  beginning — 
but  perhaps  you've  heard  about  it?" 


28o     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA  ^ 

"Yes;  that  much  we  know/*  sighed  Katrina. 

"That  was  why  I  stopped  writing,"  said  Glory 
Goldie,  with  a  Httle  laugh.  There  was  something 
strong  and  sturdy  about  the  girl  then,  as  formerly. 
She  was  not  one  of  those  who  torture  themselves  with 
remorse  and  self-condemnation.  "  Don't  think  any  more 
of  that,  mother,"  she  added,  as  Katrina  did  not  speak. 
"I've  been  doing  real  well  lately.  For  a  time  I  kept  a 
restaurant  and  now,  I'll  have  you  know,  I'm  head 
stewardess  on  a  steamer  that  runs  between  Malmo 
and  Liibeck,  and  this  fall  I  have  fitted  up  a  home  for 
myself  at  Malmo.  Sometimes  I  felt  that  I  ought  to 
write  to  you,  but  finding  it  rather  hard  to  start  in  again, 
I  decided  to  put  it  off  until  I  was  prepared  to  take  you 
and  father  to  live  with  me.  Then,  after  I'd  got  every- 
thing fixed  fine  for  you,  I  thought  it  would  be  ever  so 
much  nicer  to  come  for  you  myself  than  to  write." 

"And  you  haven't  heard  anything  about  us?"  asked 
Katrina.  All  that  Glory  Goldie  had  told  her  mother 
should  have  gladdened  her,  but  instead  it  only  made 
her  feel  the  more  depressed. 

"No,"  replied  the  daughter,  then  added,  as  if  in  self- 
justification:  "I  knew,  of  course,  that  you'd  find  help 
if  things  got  too  bad."     At  the  same  time  she  noticed 


THE  WELCOME  GREETING  281 

how  Katrina's  hands  shook  for  all  they  were  being  held 
tightly  clasped.  She  understood  then  that  the  old 
folks  were  worse  off  than  she  had  supposed,  and  tried 
to  explain  her  conduct.  "I  didn't  care  to  send  home 
small  sums,  as  others  do,  but  wanted  to  save  until  I  had 
enough  money  to  provide  a  good  home  for  you." 

"We  haven't  needed  money,"  said  Katrina.  "It 
would  have  been  enough  for  us  if  you  had  only  written." 

Glory  Goldie  tried  to  rouse  her  mother  from  her  slough 
of  despond,  as  she  had  often  done  in  the  old  days.  So 
she  said:  "Mother,  you  don't  want  to  spoil  this  moment 
for  me,  do  you  ?  Why,  I'm  back  with  you  again !  Come, 
now,  and  we'll  take  in  my  boxes  and  unpack  them. 
I've  brought  provisions  along.  We'll  have  a  fine  dinner 
all  ready  by  the  time  father  comes  home."  She  went 
out  to  help  the  driver  take  the  luggage  down  from  the 
wagon,  but  Katrina  did  not  follow  her. 

Glory  Goldie  had  not  asked  how  her  father  was  get- 
ting on.  She  supposed,  of  course,  that  he  was  still 
working  at  Falla.  Katrina  knew  she  would  have  to  tell 
the  daughter  of  the  father's  condition,  but  kept 
putting  it  off.  Anyway,  the  little  girl  had  brought  a 
freshening  breeze  into  the  hut  and  the  mother  felt  loath 
to  put  a  sudden  end  to  her  delight  at  being  home  again. 


282     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

While  Glory  Goldie  was  helping  unload  the  wagon, 
half  a  dozen  children  came  to  the  gate  and  looked  in; 
they  did  not  speak;  they  only  pointed  at  her  and 
laughed — then  ran  away.  But  in  a  moment  or  two 
they  came  back.  This  time  they  had  with  them  a  little 
faded  and  shrivelled  old  man,  who  strutted  along,  his 
head  thrown  back  and  his  feet  striking  the  ground  with 
the  measured  tread  of  a  soldier  on  parade. 

"What  a  curious  looking  figure!"  Glory  Goldie  re- 
marked to  the  driver  as  the  old  man  and  the  youngsters 
crowded  in  through  the  gate.  She  had  not  the  faintest 
suspicion  as  to  who  the  man  was,  but  she  could  not  help 
noticing  a  person  who  was  so  fantastically  arrayed. 
On  his  head  was  a  green  leather  cap,  topped  with  a 
bushy  feather;  round  his  neck  he  wore  a  chain  of  gilt 
paper  stars  and  crosses  that  hung  far  down  on  his  chest. 
It  looked  as  though  he  had  on  a  gold  necklace. 

The  youngsters,  unable  to  hold  in  any  longer,  shouted 
"Empress,  Empress!"  at  the  top  of  their  voices.  The 
old  man  strode  on  as  if  the  laughing  and  shrieking  chil- 
dren were  his  guard  of  honour. 

When  they  were  almost  at  the  door  of  the  hut  Glory 
Goldie  gave  a  wild  shriek,  and  fled  into  the  house. 

"Who  is  that   man?"  she    asked    her   mother  in 


THE  WELCOME  GREETING  283 

a   frightened    voice.     "Is  it    father?      Has   he   gone 
mad?" 

"Yes,"  said  Katrina,  the  tears  coming  into  her  eyes. 

"Is  it  because  of  me?" 

"Our  Lord  let  it  happen  out  of  compassion.  He  saw 
that  his  burden  was  too  heavy  for  him." 

There  was  no  time  to  explain  further,  for  now  Jan 
stood  in  the  doorway,  and  behind  him  was  the 
gang  of  youngsters,  who  wanted  to  see  how  this  meet- 
ing, which  they  had  so  often  heard  him  picture,  would 
be  in  reality. 

The  Emperor  of  Portugallia  did  not  go  straight  up  to 
his  daughter  but  stopped  just  inside  the  door  and  de- 
livered his  speech  of  welcome. 

**Welc;ome,  welcome,  O  queen  of  the  Sun!  O  rich 
and  beautiful  Glory  Goldie!" 

The  words  were  delivered  with  that  stilted  loftiness 
which  dignitaries  are  wont  to  assume  on  great  occa- 
sions. All  the  same,  there  were  tears  of  joy  in  Jan's 
eyes  and  he  had  hard  work  to  keep  his  voice  steady. 

After  the  well-learned  greeting  had  been  recited  the 
Emperor  rapped  three  times  on  the  floor  with  his 
imperial  stick  for  silence  and  attention,  whereupon  he 
began  to  sing  in  a  thin,  squeaky  voice. 


284     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

Glory  Goldie  had  drawn  close  to  Katrina.  It  was  as 
if  she  wished  to  hide  herself,  to  crawl  out  of  sight  behind 
her  mother.  Up  to  this  she  had  kept  silence,  but  when 
Jan  started  to  sing  she  cried  out  in  terror  and  tried 
to  stop  him.  Then  Katrina  gripped  her  tightly  by  the 
arm. 

"Leave  him  alone!"  she  said.  "He  has  been  com- 
forted by  the  hope  of  singing  this  song  to  you  ever  since 
you  first  became  lost  to  us." 

Then  Glory  Goldie  held  her  peace  and  let  Jan  con- 
tinue : 

"The  Empress's  father,  for  his  part, 
Feels  so  happy  in  his  heart. 
Austria,  Portugal,  Metz,  Japan, 
Read  the  newspapers,  if  you  can. 
Boom,  boom,  boom,  and  roll. 
Boom,  boom." 

But  Glory  Goldie  could  stand  no  more.  Rushing  for- 
ward she  quickly  hustled  the  youngsters  out  of  the 
house,  and  banged  the  door  on  them.  Then  turning 
round  upon  her  father  she  stamped  her  foot  at  him. 
Now  she  was  angry  in  earnest. 

"For  heaven's  sake,  shut  up!"  she  cried.     "Do  you 


THE  WELCOME  GREETING  285 

want  to  make  a  laughing-stock  of  me  by  calling  me  an 
empress?" 

Jan  looked  a  little  hurt,  but  he  was  over  it  in  a 
twinkling.  She  was  the  Great  Empress,  to  be  sure. 
All  that  she  did  was  right;  all  that  she  said  was  to  him 
as  honey  and  balsam.  In  the  supreme  happiness  of 
the  moment  he  had  quite  forgotten  to  look  for  the  crown 
of  gold  and  the  field  marshals  in  golden  armour.  If 
she  wished  to  appear  poor  and  humble  when  she  came, 
that  was  her  own  affair.  It  was  joy  enough  for  him 
that  she  had  come  back. 


THE  FLIGHT 

ONE  morning,  just  a  week  from  the  day  of  Glory 
Goldie's  homecoming,  she  and  her  mother  stood 
at  the  Borg  pier,  ready  to  depart  for  good  and 
all.  Old  Katrina  was  wearing  a  bonnet  for  the  first 
time  in  her  life,  and  a  fine  cloth  coat.  She  was  going 
to  Malmo  with  her  daughter  to  become  a  fine  city 
dame.  Never  more  would  she  have  to  toil  for  her 
bread.  She  was  to  sit  on  a  sofa  the  whole  day,  with  her 
hands  folded,  and  be  free  from  worry  and  care  for  the 
remainder  of  her  life. 

But  despite  all  the  promised  ease  and  comfort, 
Katrina  had  never  felt  so  wretchedly  unhappy  as 
then,  when  standing  there  on  the  pier.  Glory  Goldie, 
seeing  that  her  mother  looked  troubled,  asked  her  if 
she  was  afraid  of  the  water,  and  tried  to  assure  her 
there  was  no  danger,  although  it  was  so  windy  that  one 
could  hardly  keep  one's  footing  on  the  pier.  Glory 
Goldie  was  accustomed  to  seafaring  and  knew  what 

she  was  talking  about. 

286 


THE  FLIGHT  287 

"These  are  no  waves,'*  she  said  to  her  mother.  "I 
see  of  course  that  there  are  a  few  little  whitecaps  on  the 
water,  but  I  wouldn't  be  afraid  to  row  across  the  lake 
in  our  old  punt." 

Glory  Goldie,  who  did  not  seem  to  mind  the  gale, 
remained  on  the  pier.  But  Katrina,  to  keep  from  being 
blown  to  pieces,  went  into  the  freight  shed  and  crept 
into  a  dark  comer  behind  a  couple  of  packing  cases. 
There  she  intended  to  remain  until  the  boat  arrived, 
as  she  had  no  desire  to  meet  any  of  the  parish  folk  be- 
fore leaving.  At  the  same  time  she  knew  in  her  heart 
that  what  she  was  doing  was  not  right,  since  she  was 
ashamed  to  be  seen  by  people.  She  had  one  consola- 
tion at  least;  she  was  not  going  away  with  Glory  Goldie 
because  of  any  desire  for  ease  and  comfort,  but  only 
because  her  hands  were  failing  her.  What  else  could 
she  do  when  her  fingers  were  becoming  so  useless  that 
she  could  not  spin  any  more  ? 

Then  who  should  come  into  the  shed  but  Sexton 
Blackie! 

Katrina  prayed  God  he  would  not  see  her  and  come 
up  and  ask  her  where  she  was  going.  For  how  would 
she  ever  be  able  to  tell  him  she  was  leaving  husband  and 
home  and  everything! 


288     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

She  had  tried  to  bring  about  some  arrangement 
whereby  Jan  and  she  could  stay  on  at  the  croft.  If 
the  daughter  had  only  been  willing  to  send  them  a 
little  money — say  about  ten  rix-dollars  a  month — they 
could  have  managed  fairly  well.  But  Glory  would 
not  hear  of  this;  she  had  declared  that  not  a  penny 
would  she  give  them  unless  Katrina  went  along  with 
her. 

Katrina  knew  of  course  it  was  not  from  meanness 
that  Glory  Goldie  had  said  no  to  this.  The  girl  had 
been  to  the  trouble  of  fitting  up  a  home  for  her  parents 
and  had  looked  forward  to  a  time  when  she  could 
prove  to  them  how  much  she  thought  of  them,  and  how 
hard  she  had  worked  for  them,  and  now  she  wanted 
to  have  with  her  one  parent,  at  least,  to  compensate  her 
for  all  her  bother.  Jan  had  been  uppermost  in  her 
thought  when  she  was  preparing  the  home,  for  she  had 
been  especially  fond  of  her  father  in  the  old  days.  Now, 
however,  she  felt  it  would  be  impossible  to  have  him 
with  her. 

Herein  lay  the  whole  difficulty:  Glory  Goldie  had 
taken  a  violent  dislike  to  her  father.  She  could  not 
abide  him  now.  Never  had  he  been  allowed  to  talk 
with  her  of  Portugallia  or  of  her  riches  and  power; 


THE  FLIGHT  289 

why,  she  could  hardly  bear  the  sight  of  him  decked 
out  in  his  royal  trumpery.  All  the  same  Jan  was  as 
pleased  with  her  as  ever  he  had  been,  and  always  wanted 
to  be  near  her,  though  she  only  ran  away  from  him. 
Katrina  was  sure  that  it  was  to  escape  seeing  her 
crazy  father  that  the  girl  had  not  remained  at  home 
longer  than  a  week. 

Presently  Glory  Goldie,  too,  came  into  the  freight 
shed.  She  was  not  afraid  of  Sexton  Blackie.  Not 
she!  She  went  right  up  to  him  and  began  to  chat. 
She  told  him  in  the  very  first  breath  that  she  was  re- 
turning to  her  own  home  and  was  taking  her  mother 
back  with  her. 

Then  Sexton  Blackie  naturally  wanted  to  know  how 
the  father  felt  about  this,  and  Glory  Goldie  informed 
him  as  calmly  as  though  she  were  speaking  of  a  stranger 
that  she  had  arranged  for  her  father  to  board  with  Lisa, 
the  daughter-in-law  of  01'  Bengtsa.  Lisa  had  built 
her  a  fine  new  house  after  the  old  man's  death,  and  she 
had  a  spare  room  that  Jan  could  occupy. 

Sexton  Blackie  had  a  countenance  that  revealed  no 
more  of  his  thought  than  he  wanted  to  reveal.  And 
now,  as  he  listened  to  Glory  Goldie,  his  face  was  quite 
impassive.     Just  the  same  Katrina  knew  what  he,  who 


290     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

was  like  a  father  to  the  whole  parish,  was  thinking. 
"Why  should  an  old  man  who  has  a  wife  and  daughter 
living  be  obliged  to  live  with  strangers  ?  Lisa  is  a  good 
woman,  but  she  can  never  have  the  patience  with  Jan 
that  his  own  folks  had."  That  was  what  he  thought. 
And  he  was  right  about  it,  too! 

Katrina  suddenly  looked  down  at  her  hands.  After 
all,  perhaps  she  was  deceiving  herself  in  laying  the 
blame  on  them.  The  real  reason  for  her  desertion  of 
Jan  was  this:  the  daughter  had  the  stronger  will  and 
she  seemed  unable  to  oppose  her. 

All  this  time  Glory  Goldie  stood  talking  to  the  sex- 
ton. Now  she  was  telling  him  of  their  being  compelled 
to  steal  away  from  home  so  that  Jan  should  not  know 
of  their  leaving. 

This  had  been  the  most  dreadful  part  of  it  to  Katrina. 
Glory  Goldie  had  sent  Jan  on  an  errand  to  the  store 
away  up  in  Bro  parish  and  as  soon  as  he  was  gone  they 
had  packed  up  their  belongings  and  left.  Katrina  had 
felt  like  a  criminal  in  sneaking  away  from  the  house  in 
that  way,  but  Glory  Goldie  had  insisted  it  was  the  only 
thing  to  do.  For  had  Jan  known  of  where  they  were 
going  he  would  have  cast  himself  in  front  of  the  wagon, 
to  be  trampled  and  run  over.     And  now,  on  his  return. 


THE  FLIGHT  291 

Lisa  would  be  at  the  house  to  receive  him  and  of  course 
she  would  try  her  best  to  console  him;  but  still  it  hurt 
to  think  of  how  hard  he  would  take  it  when  he  learned 
that  his  daughter  had  left  him. 

Sexton  Blackie  had  listened  quietly  to  Glory  Goldie, 
without  putting  in  a  word.  Katrina  had  begun  to 
wonder  whether  he  was  pleased  with  what  he  had  learned, 
when  he  suddenly  took  the  girl's  hand  in  his  and  said 
with  great  gravity: 

"Inasmuch  as  I  am  your  old  teacher,  Glory  Goldie, 
I  shall  speak  plainly  to  you.  You  want  to  run  away 
from  a  duty,  but  that  does  not  say  that  you  will  suc- 
ceed. I  have  seen  others  try  to  do  the  same  thing,  but 
it  has  invariably  resulted  in  their  undoing." 

When  Katrina  heard  this  she  rose  and  drew  a  breath 
of  relief.  Those  were  the  very  words  she  herself  had 
been  wanting  to  say  to  her  daughter. 

Glory  Goldie  answered  in  all  meekness  that  she  did 
not  know  what  else  she  could  have  done.  She  certainly 
could  not  take  an  insane  man  along  to  a  strange  city, 
nor  could  she  remain  in  Svartsjo,  and  Jan  had  himself 
to  thank  for  that.  When  she  went  past  a  house  the 
youngsters  came  running  out  shouting  "Empress, 
Empress"  at  her,  and  last  Sunday  at  church  the  people 


292     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

in  their  eager  curiosity  to  see  her  had  crowded  round 
her  and  all  but  knocked  her  down. 

"I  understand  that  such  things  are  very  trying," 
said  the  sexton.  "But  between  you  and  your  father 
there  has  been  an  uncommonly  close  bond  of  sympathy, 
and  you  musn't  think  it  can  be  so  easily  severed." 

Then  the  sexton  and  Glory  Goldie  went  outside. 
Katrina  followed  immediately.  She  had  altered  her 
mind  now  and  wanted  to  talk  to  the  sexton,  but  stopped 
a  moment  to  glance  up  toward  the  hill.  She  had  the 
feeling  that  Jan  would  soon  be  there. 

"Are  you  afraid  father  will  come.^"*  asked  Glory 
Goldie,  leaving  the  sexton  and  going  over  to  her  mother. 

"Afraid!"  cried  Katrina.  "I  only  hope  to  God  he  gets 
here  before  I'm  gone!"  Then,  summoning  all  her 
courage,  she  went  on:  "I  feel  that  I  have  done  some- 
thing wicked  for  which  I  shall  suffer  as  long  as  I  live." 

"You  think  that  only  because  you've  had  to  live  in 
gloom  and  misery  so  many  years,"  said  Glory  Goldie. 
"You'll  feel  differently  once  we're  away  from  here. 
Anyhow,  it  isn't  likely  that  father  will  come  when  he 
doesn't  even  know  we've  left  the  house." 

"Don't  be  too  sure  of  that!"  returned  Katrina. 
**Jan  has  a  way  of  knowing  all  that  is  necessary  for 


THE  FLIGHT  293 

him  to  know.  It  has  been  like  that  with  him  since  the 
day  you  left  us,  and  this  power  of  sensing  things  has 
increased  with  the  years.  When  the  poor  man  lost  his 
reason  Our  Lord  gave  him  a  new  light  to  be  guided  by." 

Then  Katrina  gave  Glory  Goldie  a  brief  account  of 
the  fate  of  Lars  Gunnarson  and  of  other  happenings  of 
more  recent  date,  to  prove  to  her  that  Jan  was  clair- 
voyant, as  folks  call  it.  Glory  Goldie  listened  with 
marked  attention.  Before  Katrina  had  tried  to  tell 
her  of  Jan's  kindness  toward  many  poor  old  people, 
but  to  that  she  had  not  cared  to  listen.  This,  on  the 
contrary,  seemed  to  impress  the  girl  so  much  that 
Katrina  began  to  hope  the  daughter's  opinion  of  Jan 
would  change  and  that  she,  too,  would  turn  back. 

But  Katrina  was  not  allowed  to  cling  to  this  hope 
long!  In  a  moment  Glory  Goldie  cried  out  in  a  jubi- 
lant voice: 

"Here's  the  boat,  mother!  So  after  all  it  has  turned 
out  well  for  us,  and  now  we'll  soon  be  off." 

When  Katrina  saw  the  boat  at  the  pier  her  old  eyes 
filled  up.  She  had  intended  to  ask  Sexton  Blackie  to 
say  a  good  word  for  Jan  and  herself  to  Glory  Goldie, 
but  now  there  was  no  time.  She  saw  no  way  of  es- 
caping the  journey. 


294     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

The  boat  was  evidently  late,  for  she  seemed  to  be  in 
a  great  hurry  to  get  away  again.  There  was  not  even 
time  to  put  out  the  gangplank.  A  couple  of  hapless 
passengers  who  had  to  come  ashore  here  were  almost 
thrown  onto  the  pier  by  the  sailors.  Glory  Goldie 
seized  her  mother  by  the  arm  and  dragged  her  over  to 
the  boat,  where  a  man  lifted  her  on  board.  The  old 
woman  wept  and  wanted  to  turn  back,  but  no  pity  was 
shown  her. 

The  instant  Katrina  was  on  deck  Glory  Goldie  put 
her  arm  around  her,  to  steady  her. 

"Come,  let's  go  over  to  the  other  side  of  the  boat," 
she  said. 

But  it  was  too  late.  Old  Katrina  had  just  caught 
sight  of  a  man  running  down  the  hill  toward  the  pier. 
And  she  knew  who  it  was,  too! 

"It's  Jan!"  she  cried.     "Oh,  what  will  he  do  now!" 

Jan  did  not  stop  until  he  reached  the  very  edge  of 
the  pier;  but  there  he  stood — a  frail  and  pathetic 
figure.  He  saw  Glory  Goldie  on  the  outgoing  boat  and 
greater  anguish  and  despair  than  were  depicted  on  his 
face  could  hardly  be  imagined.  But  the  sight  of  him 
was  all  Katrina  needed  to  give  her  the  strength  to  defy 
her  daughter. 


THE  FLIGHT  295 

"You  can  go  if  you  want  to/'  she  said.  "But  I 
shall  get  off  at  the  next  landing  and  go  home  again/* 

"Do  as  you  like,  mother,"  sighed  Glory  Goldie 
wearily,  perceiving  that  here  was  something  which 
she  could  not  combat.  And  perhaps  she,  too,  may  have 
felt  that  their  treatment  of  the  father  was  outrageous. 

No  time  was  granted  them  for  amends.  Jan  did 
not  want  to  lose  his  whole  life's  happiness  a  second 
time,  so  with  a  bound  he  leaped  from  the  pier  into  the 
lake. 

Perhaps  he  intended  to  swim  out  to  the  boat.  Or 
maybe  he  just  felt  that  he  could  not  endure  living  any 
longer. 

Loud  shrieks  went  up  from  the  pier.  Instantly  a 
boat  was  sent  out,  and  the  little  freight  steamer  lay 
by  and  put  out  her  skifF. 

But  Jan  sank  at  once  and  never  rose  to  the  surface. 
I  The  imperial  stick  and  the  green  leather  cap  lay  floating 
on  the  waves,  but  the  Emperor  himself  had  disappeared 
so  quietly,  so  beyond  all  tracing,  that  if  these  souvenirs 
of  him  had  not  remained  on  top  of  the  water,  one  would 
hardly  have  believed  him  gone. 


HELD! 

IT  SEEMED  extraordinary  to  many  that  Glory 
Goldie  of  Ruffluck  should  have  to  stand  at  the 
Borg  pier  day  after  day,  watching  for  one  who 
never  came. 

Glory  Goldie  did  not  stand  there  waiting  on  fine  light 
summer  days  either!  She  was  on  the  pier  in  bleak  and 
stormy  November  and  in  dark  and  cold  December. 
Nor  did  she  have  any  sweet  and  solacing  dreams 
about  travellers  from  a  far  country  who  would  step 
ashore  here  in  pomp  and  state.  She  had  eyes  and 
thoughts  only  for  a  boat  that  was  being  rowed  back  and 
forth  on  the  lake,  just  beyond  the  pier,  dragging  for  the 
body  of  a  drowned  man. 

In  the  beginning  she  had  thought  that  the  one  for 
whom  she  waited  would  be  found  immediately  the 
dragging  was  begun.  But  such  was  not  the  case.  Day 
after  day  a  couple  of  patient  old  fishermen  worked  with 
grappling  hooks  and  dragnets,  without  finding  a  trace 

of  the  body. 

296 


HELD!  297 

There  were  said  to  be  two  deep  holes  at  the  bottom 
of  the  lake,  close  to  the  Borg  pier,  and  some  folks 
thought  Jan  had  gone  down  into  one  of  them.  Others 
maintained  there  was  a  strong  under-tow  here  at 
the  point  which  ran  farther  in,  toward  Big  Church 
Inlet,  and  that  he  had  been  carried  over  there.  Then 
Glory  Goldie  had  the  draglines  lengthened,  so  that  they 
would  reach  down  to  the  lowest  depths  of  the  lake,  and 
she  ordered  every  foot  of  Big  Church  Inlet  dragged;  yet 
she  did  not  succeed  in  bringing  her  father  back  into 
the  Hght  of  day. 

On  the  morning  following  the  tragic  end  of  her  father 
Glory  Goldie  ordered  a  coffin  made.  When  it  was  ready 
she  had  it  brought  down  to  the  pier,  that  she  might 
lay  the  dead  man  in  it  the  moment  he  was  found. 
Night  and  day  it  had  to  stand  out  there.  She  would 
not  even  have  it  put  into  the  freight  shed.  The  guard 
locked  the  shed  whenever  he  left  the  pier,  and  the  cof- 
fin had  to  be  at  hand  always  so  that  Jan  would  not  be 
compelled  to  wait  for  it. 

The  old  Emperor  used  to  have  kind  friends  around 
him  at  the  pier,  to  enliven  his  long  waiting  hours. 
But  Glory  Goldie  nearly  always  tramped  there  alone. 
She  spoke  to  no  one,  and  folks  were  glad  to  leave  her  in 


298     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

peace,  for  they  felt  that  there  was  something  uncanny 
about  her  which  had  been  the  cause  of  her  father's 
death. 

In  December  navigation  closed.  Then  Glory  Goldie 
had  the  pier  all  to  herself.  No  one  disturbed  her.  The 
fishermen  who  were  conducting  the  search  on  the  lake 
wanted  to  quit  now.  But  that  put  Glory  Goldie  in 
despair.  She  felt  that  her  only  hope  of  salvation  lay  in 
the  finding  of  her  father.  She  told  the  men  they  must 
go  on  with  the  search  while  the  lake  was  still  unfrozen, 
that  they  must  search  for  him  down  by  Nygard  Point; 
by  Storvik  Point — they  must  search  the  length  and 
breadth  of  all  Lake  Loven. 

For  each  day  that  passed  Glory  Goldie  became  more 
desperately  determined  to  find  the  body.  She  had 
taken  lodgings  in  a  cotter's  hut  at  Borg.  In  the  begin- 
ning she  remained  indoors  at  least  some  moments  dur- 
ing the  day,  but  after  a  time  her  mind  became  prey  to 
such  intense  fear  that  she  could  scarcely  eat  or  sleep. 
Now  she  paced  the  pier  all  the  while — not  only  during 
the  short  hours  of  daylight  but  all  through  the  long, 
dark  evenings,  until  bedtime. 

The  first  two  days  after  Jan's  death  Katrina  had 
stayed  on  the  pier  with  Glory  Goldie,  and  watched  for 


HELD!  299 

his  return.  Then  she  went  back  to  Ruffluck.  It 
was  not  from  any  feeling  of  indifference  that  she  stop- 
ped coming  to  the  pier,  it  was  simply  that  she  could  not 
stand  being  with  her  daughter  and  hearing  her  speak  of 
Jan.  For  Glory  Goldie  did  not  disguise  her  real  senti- 
ments. Katrina  knew  it  was  not  from  any  sense  of 
pity  or  remorse  that  Glory  Goldie  was  so  determined 
her  father's  body  should  rest  in  consecrated  soil,  but 
she  was  afraid,  unreasonably  afraid  while  the  one  for 
whose  death  she  was  responsible  still  lay  unburied  at 
the  bottom  of  the  lake.  She  felt  that  if  she  could  only 
get  her  father  interred  in  churchyard  mould  he  would 
not  be  such  a  menace  to  her.  But  so  long  as  he  re- 
mained where  he  was  she  must  live  in  constant  terror  of 
him  and  of  the  punishment  he  would  mete  out  to  her. 

Glory  Goldie  stood  on  the  Borg  pier  looking  down  at 
the  lake,  which  was  now  gray  and  turgid.  Her  gaze 
did  not  penetrate  beneath  the  surface  of  the  water, 
yet  she  seemed  to  see  the  whole  wide  expanse  of  lake 
bottom  underneath. 

Down  there  sat  he,  the  Emperor  of  Portugallia,  his 
hands  clasped  round  his  knees,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
gray-green   water — in   constant   expectation  that  she 


300     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

would  come  to  him.  His  imperial  regalia  had  been 
discarded,  for  the  stick  and  cap  had  never  gone  down 
into  the  depths  with  him,  and  the  paper  stars  had  of 
course  been  dissolved  by  the  water.  He  sat  there  now 
in  his  old  threadbare  coat  with  two  empty  hands. 
But  there  was  no  longer  anything  pretentious  or  ludi- 
crous about  him;  now  he  was  only  powerful  and  awe- 
inspiring. 

It  was  not  without  reason  he  had  called  himself  an 
emperor.  So  great  had  been  his  power  in  life  that  the 
enemy  whose  evil  deeds  he  hated  had  been  overthrown, 
while  his  friends  had  received  help  and  protection. 
This  power  he  still  possessed.  It  had  not  gone  from 
him  even  in  death. 

Only  two  persons  had  ever  wronged  him.  One  of 
them  had  already  met  his  doom.  The  other  one  was 
herself — his  daughter — ^who  had  first  driven  him  out 
of  his  mind  and  had  afterward  caused  his  death.  Her 
he  bided  down  there  in  the  deep.  His  love  for  her  was 
over.  Now  he  awaited  her  not  to  render  her  praise 
and  homage,  but  to  drag  her  down  into  the  realms  of 
death,  as  punishment  for  her  heartless  treatment  of  him. 

Glory  Goldie  had  a  weird  temptation:  she  wanted  to 
remove  the  heavy  coffin  lid  and  slide  the  coffin  into  the 


HELD!  301 

lake,  as  a  boat,  and  then  to  get  inside  and  push  away 
from  shore,  and  afterward  stretch  herself  out  on  the  bed 
of  sawdust  at  the  bottom  of  the  coffin. 

She  wondered  whether  she  would  sink  instantly  or 
whether  she  would  drift  a  while,  until  the  lashing  waves 
filled  her  bark  and  drew  it  under.  She  also  thought 
that  she  might  not  sink  at  all  but  would  be  carried  out 
to  sea  only  to  be  cast  ashore  at  one  of  the  elm-edged 
points.  She  felt  strangely  tempted  to  put  herself  to 
the  test.  She  would  lie  perfectly  still  the  whole  time, 
she  said  to  herself,  and  use  neither  hand  nor  foot  to 
propel  the  coffin.  She  would  put  herself  wholly  at  the 
mercy  of  her  judge;  he  might  draw  her  down  or  let  her 
escape  as  he  willed. 

If  she  were  thus  to  seek  his  indulgence  perhaps  his 
great  love  would  again  speak  to  her;  perhaps  he  would 
then  take  pity  on  her  and  grant  her  grace.  But  her 
fear  was  too  great.  She  no  longer  dared  trust  in  his 
love,  and  therefore  she  was  afraid  to  put  the  black 
coffin  out  on  the  lake. 

An  old  friend  and  schoolmate  of  Glory  Goldie  sought 
her  out  at  this  time.  It  was  August  Dar  Nol  of 
Prasterud,  who  was  still  living  under  the  parental 
roof. 


502     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

August  Dar  Nol  was  a  quiet  and  sensible  man  whom 
It  did  her  good  to  talk  with.  He  advised  her  to  go 
away  and  take  up  her  old  occupation.  It  was  not  well 
for  her  to  haunt  the  desolate  pier,  watching  for  the 
return  of  a  dead  man,  he  said.  Glory  Goldie  answered 
that  she  would  not  dare  leave  until  her  father  had  been 
laid  in  consecrated  ground.  But  August  would  not 
hear  of  this.  The  first  time  he  talked  with  her  nothing 
was  decided,  but  when  he  came  again  she  promised  to 
follow  his  advice.  They  parted  with  the  understanding 
that  he  was  to  come  for  her  the  following  day  and  take 
her  to  the  railway  station  in  his  own  carriage. 

Had  he  done  so  possibly  all  would  have  gone  smoothly. 
But  he  was  prevented  from  coming  himself  and  sent  a 
hired  man  with  the  team.  All  the  same  Glory  Goldie 
got  into  the  carriage  and  drove  off.  On  the  way  to  the 
station  she  talked  with  the  driver  about  her  father  and 
encouraged  him  to  relate  stories  of  her  father's  clair- 
voyance, the  ones  Katrina  had  told  her  on  the  pier  and 
still  others. 

When  she  had  listened  a  while  she  begged  the  driver 
to  turn  back.  She  had  become  so  alarmed  that  she  was 
afraid  to  go  any  farther.  He  was  too  powerful,  was 
the  old  Emperor  of  Portugallia!     She  knew  how  the 


HELD!  303 

dead  that  have  not  been  buried  in  churchyard  mould 
haunt  and  pursue  their  enemies.  Her  father  would 
have  to  be  brought  up  out  of  the  water  and  laid  in  his 
coffin.  God's  Holy  Word  must  be  read  over  him,  else 
she  would  never  know  a  moment's  peace. 


JAN'S  LAST  WORDS 

ALONG  toward  Christmas  time  Glory Goldie  re- 
/  %      ceived  word  that  her  mother  lay  at  the  point 
-*-     -^  of  death.     Then  at  last  she  tore  herself  away 
from  the  pier. 

She  went  home  on  foot,  this  being  the  best  way  to 
get  to  the  Ashdales — taking  the  old  familiar  road  across 
Loby,  then  on  through  the  big  forest  and  over  Snipa 
Ridge.  When  going  past  the  old  Hindrickson  home- 
stead she  saw  a  big,  broad-shouldered  man,  with  a 
strong,  grave-looking  visage,  standing  at  the  roadside 
mending  a  picket  fence.  The  man  gave  her  a  stiff  nod 
as  she  went  by.  He  stood  still  for  a  moment,  looking 
after  her,  then  hastened  to  overtake  her. 

"This  must  be  Glory  Goldie  of  Ruffluck,"  he 
said  as  he  came  up  with  her.  **rd  like  to  have  a 
word  with  you.  I'm  Linnart,  son  of  Bjorn  Hindrick- 
son," he  added,  seeing  that  she  did  not  know  who  he 
was. 

"I'm  terribly  pressed  for  time  now,"  Glory  Goldie 

304 


JAN'S  LAST  WORDS  305 

told  him.  "So  perhaps  you'd  better  wait  till  another 
day.     I've  just  learned  that  my  mother  is  dying." 

Linnart  Hindrickson  then  asked  if  he  might  walk  with 
her  part  of  the  way.  He  said  that  he  had  thought  of 
going  down  to  the  pier  to  see  her  and  now  he  did  not 
want  to  miss  this  good  opportunity  of  speaking  with 
her,  as  it  was  very  necessary  that  she  should  hear  what 
he  had  to  say. 

Glory  Goldie  made  no  further  objections.  She  per- 
ceived, however,  that  the  man  had  some  difficulty  in 
stating  his  business,  and  concluded  it  was  something 
of  an  unpleasant  nature.  He  hemmed  and  hawed 
a  while,  as  if  trying  to  find  the  right  words;  presently 
he  said,  with  apparent  effort : 

"I  don't  believe  you  know,  Glory  Goldie,  that  I  was 
the  last  person  who  talked  with  your  father — the  Em- 
peror, as  we  used  to  call  him." 

**No,  I  did  not  know  of  this,"  answered  the  girl,  at 
the  same  time  quickening  her  steps.  She  was  thinking 
to  herself  that  this  conversation  was  something  she 
would  rather  have  escaped. 

**One  day  last  autumn,"  Linnart  continued,  "while 
I  was  out  in  the  yard  hitching  up  a  horse  to  drive  over 
to  the  village  shop,  I  saw  the  Emperor  come  running 


3o6     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

down  the  road;  he  seemed  in  a  great  hurry,  but  when  he 
espied  me  he  stopped  and  asked  if  I  had  seen  the  Empress 
drive  by.  I  couldn't  deny  that  I  had.  Then  he  burst 
out  crying.  He  had  been  on  his  way  to  Broby,  he 
said,  but  such  a  strange  feeling  of  uneasiness  had  sud- 
denly come  over  him  that  he  had  to  turn  back,  and 
when  he  reached  home  he  found  the  hut  deserted. 
Katrina  was  also  gone.  He  felt  certain  his  wife  and 
daughter  were  leaving  by  the  boat  and  he  didn't  know 
how  he  should  ever  be  able  to  get  down  to  the  Borg 
pier  before  they  were  gone." 

Glory  Goldie  stood  stock  still.  "You  let  him  ride 
with  you,  of  course?"  she  said. 

"Oh,  yes,"  replied  Linnart.  "Jan  once  did  me  a  good 
turn  and  I  wanted  to  repay  it.  Perhaps  I  did  wrong  in 
giving  him  a  lift?" 

" No,  indeed ! "  said  Glory  Goldie.  " It  was  I  who  did 
wrong  in  attempting  to  leave  him." 

"He  wept  like  a  child  the  whole  time  he  sat  in  the 
wagon.  I  didn't  know  what  to  do  to  comfort  him,  but 
at  last  I  said,  'Don't  cry  like  that,  Jan!  We'll  surely 
overtake  her.  Besides,  these  little  freight  steamers 
that  run  in  the  autumn  are  never  on  time.'  No  sooner 
had  I  said  that  than  he  laid  his  hand  on  my  arm  and 


JAN'S  LAST  WORDS  307 

asked  me  if  I  thought  they  would  be  harsh  and  cruel 
toward  the  Empress — those  who  had  carried  her  off." 

"Those  who  had  carried  me  off!"  repeated  Glory 
Goldie  in  astonishment. 

"I  was  as  much  astonished  at  that  as  you  are," 
Linnart  declared,  "and  I  asked  him  what  he  meant. 
Well,  he  meant  those  who  had  lain  in  wait  for  the  Em- 
press while  she  was  at  home — all  the  enemies  of  whom 
Glory  Goldie  had  been  so  afraid  that  she  had  not  dared 
to  put  on  her  gold  crown  or  so  much  as  mention 
Portugallia,  and  who  had  finally  overpowered  her  and 
carried  her  into  captivity." 

"So  that  was  it!" 

"Yes,  just  that.  You  understand  of  course  that 
your  father  did  not  weep  because  he  had  been  deserted 
and  left  alone,  but  because  he  thought  you  were  in 
peril."  It  had  been  a  little  hard  for  Linnart  to  come 
out  with  the  last  few  words;  they  wanted  to  stick  in 
his  throat.  Perhaps  he  was  thinking  of  old  Bjorn 
Hindrickson  and  himself,  for  there  was  that  in  his  own 
life  which  had  taught  him  the  true  worth  of  a  love  that 
never  fails  you. 

But  Glory  Goldie  did  not  yet  understand.  She  had 
thought  of  her  father  only  with  aversion   and  dread 


3o8     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

since  her  return  and  muttered  something  about  his 
being  a  madman. 

Linnart  heard  what  she  said,  and  it  hurt  him.  "I'm 
not  so  sure  that  Jan  was  mad!"  he  retorted.  "I  told 
him  that  I  hadn't  seen  any  gaolers  around  Glory 
Goldie.  *My  good  Linnart,'  he  then  said,  *  didn't 
you  notice  how  closely  they  guarded  her  when  she 
drove  by?  They  were  Pride  and  Hardness,  Lust  and 
Vice,  all  the  enemies  she  has  to  battle  against  back 
there  in  her  Empire.'" 

Glory  Goldie  stopped  a  moment  and  turned  toward 
Linnart.     "Well?"  was  all  she  said. 

"I  replied  that  these  enemies  I,  too,  had  seen,"  re- 
turned Linnart  Hindrickson  curtly. 

The  girl  gave  a  short  laugh. 

"But  instantly  I  regretted  having  said  that,"  pur- 
sued the  man.  "For  then  Jan  cried  out  in  despair: 
*0h,  pray  to  God,  my  dear  Linnart,  that  I  may  be 
able  to  save  the  little  girl  from  all  evil!  It  doesn't 
matter  what  becomes  of  me,  just  so  she  is  helped.'" 

Glory  Goldie  did  not  speak,  but  walked  on  hurriedly. 
Something  had  begun  to  pull  and  tear  at  her  heart 
strings — something  she  was  trying  to  force  back.  She 
knew  that  if  that  which  lay  hidden  within  should  burst 


JAN'S  LAST  WORDS  309 

its  bonds  and  come  to  the  surface,  she  would  break 
down  completely. 

"And  those  were  Jan's  last  words,"  said  Linnart. 
"It  wasn't  long  after  that  before  he  proved  that  he 
meant  what  he  said.  Don't  think  for  a  moment 
that  Jan  jumped  into  the  lake  to  get  away  from  his 
own  sorrow;  it  was  only  to  rescue  Glory  Goldie  from 
her  enemies  that  he  plunged  in  after  the  boat." 

Glory  Goldie  tramped  on,  faster  and  faster.  Her 
father's  great  love  from  first  to  last  now  stood  revealed 
to  her.  But  she  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  it  and 
wanted  to  put  it  behind  her. 

"We  keep  pretty  well  posted  in  this  parish  as  to  one 
another's  doings,"  Linnart  continued.  "There  was 
much  ill  feeling  against  you  at  first,  after  the  Emperor 
was  drowned.  I  for  my  part  considered  you  unworthy 
to  receive  his  farewell  message.  But  we  all  feel  dif- 
ferently now;  we  like  your  staying  down  at  the  pier 
to  watch  for  him." 

Then  Glory  Goldie  stopped  short.  Her  cheeks 
burned  and  her  eyes  flashed  with  indignation.  "I 
stay  down  there  only  because  I'm  afraid  of  him,"  she 
said. 

"You  have  never  wanted  to  appear  better  than  you 


310     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

are.  We  know  that.  But  we  understand  perhaps 
better  than  you  yourself  do  what  Hes  back  of  this  wait- 
ing. We  have  also  had  parents  and  we  haven't  always 
treated  them  right,  either." 

Glory  Goldie  was  so  furious  that  she  wanted  to  say 
something  dreadful  to  make  Linnart  hush,  but  some- 
how she  couldn't.  All  she  could  do  was  to  run  away 
from  him. 

Linnart  Hindrickson  made  no  attempt  to  follow  her 
further.  He  had  said  what  he  wanted  to  say  and  he 
was  not  displeased  with  that  morning's  work. 


THE  PASSING  OF  KATRINA 

KATRINA  lay  on  the  bed  in  the  Httle  hut  at 
Ruffluck  Croft,  the  pallor  of  death  on  her 
■"  face,  her  eyes  closed.  It  looked  as  if  the  end 
had  already  come.  But  the  instant  Glory  Goldie 
reached  her  bedside  and  stood  patting  her  hand,  she 
opened  her  eyes  and  began  to  speak. 

"Jan  wants  me  with  him,"  she  said,  with  great  ef- 
fort. **He  doesn't  hold  it  against  me  that  I  deserted 
him." 

Glory  Goldie  started.  Now  she  knew  why  her  mother 
was  dying;  she  who  had  been  faithful  a  lifetime  was 
grieving  herself  to  death  for  having  failed  Jan  at  the 
last. 

"Why  should  you  have  to  fret  your  heart  out  over 
that,  when  I  was  the  one  who  forced  you  to  leave  him?" 
said  Glory  Goldie. 

"Just  the  same  the  memory  of  it  has  been  so  pain- 
ful," replied  Katrina.  "But  now  all  is  well  again  be- 
tween Jan  and  me."     Then  she  closed   her  eyes  and 

311 


312     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

lay  very  still,  and  into  her  thin,  wan  face  came  a  faint 
light  of  happiness.  Soon  she  began  to  speak  again, 
for  there  were  things  which  had  to  be  said;  she  could 
not  find  peace  until  they  were  said. 

"Don't  be  so  angry  with  Jan  for  running  after  you! 
He  meant  only  well  by  you.  Things  have  never  been 
right  with  you  since  you  and  he  first  parted,  and  he 
knew  it,  too,  nor  with  him  either.  You  both  went 
wrong,  each  in  your  own  way." 

Glory  Goldie  had  felt  that  her  mother  would  say 
something  of  this  sort,  and  had  steeled  herself  before- 
hand. But  her  mother's  words  moved  her  more  than 
she  realized,  and  she  tried  to  say  something  com- 
forting. "I  shall  think  of  father  as  he  was  in  the  old 
days.  You  remember  what  good  friends  we  always 
were  at  that  time." 

Katrina  seemed  to  be  satisfied  with  the  response,  for 
she  settled  back  to  rest  once  more.  Apparently  she 
had  not  intended  to  say  anything  further.  Then,  all 
at  once,  she  looked  up  at  her  daughter  and  gave  her  a 
smile  that  bespoke  rare  tenderness  and  affection. 

"I'm  so  glad.  Glory  Goldie,  that  you  have  grown 
beautiful  again,"  she  said. 

For  that  smile  and  those  words  all  Glory  Goldie's  self- 


THE  PASSING  OF  KATRINA  313 

control  gave  way;  she  fell  upon  her  knees  beside  the 
low  bedstead,  and  wept.  It  was  the  first  time  since 
her  homecoming  that  she  had  shed  real  tears. 

"Mother,  I  don*t  know  how  you  can  feel  toward  me 
as  you  do!"  cried  the  girl.  "It*s  all  my  fault  that  you 
are  dying,  and  I'm  to  blame  for  father's  death,  too." 

Katrina,  smiling  all  the  while,  moved  her  hands  in  a 
little  caress. 

"You  are  so  good,  mother,"  said  Glory  Goldie  through 
her  sobs.    "You  are  so  good  to  me!" 

Katrina  gripped  hard  her  daughter's  hand  and  raised 
herself  in  bed,  to  give  her  final  testimony. 

"All  that  is  good  in  me  I  have  learned  from  Jan," 
she  declared  After  which  she  sank  back  on  her  pillow 
and  said  nothing  more  that  was  clear  or  sensible. 
The  death  struggle  had  begun,  and  the  next  morning 
she  passed  away. 

But  all  through  the  final  agony  Glory  Goldie  lay 
weeping  on  the  floor  beside  her  mother's  bed;  she  wept 
away  her  anguish;  her  fever-dreams;  her  burden  of 
guilt.    There  was  no  end  to  her  tears. 


THE  BURIAL  OF  THE  EMPEROR 

r^  WAS  on  the  Sunday  before  Christmas  they  were 
to  bury  Katrina  of  Ruffluck.  Usually  on  that  par- 
ticular Sabbath  the  church  attendance  is  very  poor, 
as  most  people  like  to  put  off  their  church-going  until 
the  great  Holy  Day  services. 

When  the  few  mourners  from  the  Ashdales  drove  into 
the  pine  grove  between  the  church  and  the  town  hall, 
they  were  astonished.  For  such  crowds  of  people  as 
were  assembled  there  that  Sunday  were  rarely  seen  even 
when  the  Dean  of  Bro  came  to  Svartsjo  once  a  year,  to 
preach,  or  at  a  church  election. 

It  went  without  saying  that  it  was  not  for  the  purpose 
of  following  old  Katrina  to  her  grave  that  every  one  to  a 
man  turned  out.  Something  else  must  have  brought 
them  there.  Possibly  some  great  personage  was  expected 
at  the  church,  or  maybe  some  clergyman  other  than  the 
regular  pastor  was  going  to  preach,  thought  the  Ashdales 
folk,  who  lived  in  such  an  out-of-the-way  corner  that  much 
could  happen  in  the  parish  without  their  ever  hearing  of  it. 

314 


THE  BURIAL  OF  THE  EMPEROR      315 

The  mourners  drove  up  to  the  cleared  space  behind 
the  town  hall,  where  they  stepped  down  from  the 
wagons.  Here,  as  in  the  grove,  they  found  throngs  of 
people,  but  otherwise  they  saw  nothing  out  of  the 
ordinary.  Their  astonishment  increased,  but  they  felt 
loath  to  question  any  one  as  to  what  was  going  on; 
for  persons  who  drive  in  a  funeral  procession  are  ex- 
pected to  keep  to  themselves  and  not  to  enter  into  con- 
versation with  those  who  have  no  part  in  the  mourning. 

The  cofl&n  was  removed  from  the  hearse  and  placed 
upon  two  black  trestles  which  had  been  set  up  just  out- 
side the  town  hall,  where  the  body  and  those  who  had 
come  with  it  were  to  remain  until  the  bells  began  to 
toll  and  the  pastor  and  the  sexton  were  ready  to  go  with 
them  to  the  churchyard. 

It  was  a  stormy  day.  Rain  came  down  in  lashing 
showers  and  beat  against  the  coffin.  One  thing  was 
certain:  it  could  never  be  said  that  fine  weather  had 
brought  all  these  people  out. 

But  that  day  nobody  seemed  to  mind  the  rain  and 
wind.  People  stood  quietly  and  patiently  under  the 
open  sky  without  seeking  the  shelter  of  either  the 
church  or  the  town  hall. 

The  six  pall-bearers  and  others  who  had  gathered 


3i6     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLlA 

around  Katrina  noticed  that  there  were  two  trestles 
there  besides  those  on  which  her  coffin  rested.  Then 
there  was  to  be  another  burial  that  day.  This  they 
had  not  known  of  before.  Yet  no  funeral  procession 
could  be  seen  approaching.  It  was  already  so  late  that 
it  should  have  been  at  the  church  by  that  time. 

When  it  was  about  ten  minutes  of  ten  o*clock  and 
time  to  be  moving  toward  the  churchyard,  the  Ash- 
dales  folk  noticed  that  every  one  withdrew  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  Dar  Nol  home,  which  was  only  two  minutes* 
walk  from  the  church.  They  saw  then  what  they  had  not 
observed  before,  that  the  path  leading  from  the  town 
hall  to  the  house  of  Dar  Nol  was  strewn  with  spruce 
twigs  and  that  a  spruce  tree  had  been  placed  at  either 
side  of  the  gate.  Then  it  was  from  there  a  body  was  to 
be  taken.  They  wondered  why  nothing  had  been  said 
about  a  death  in  a  family  of  such  prominence.  Besides, 
there  were  no  sheets  put  up  at  the  windows,  as  there 
should  be  in  a  house  of  mourning. 

Then,  in  a  moment,  the  front  doors  opened  and  a 
funeral  party  emerged.  First  came  August  Dar  Nol, 
carrying  a  creped  mace.  Behind  him  walked  the  six 
pall-bearers  with  the  casket.  And  now  all  the  people 
who  had  been  standing  outside  the  church  fell  into  line 


THE  BURIAL  OF  THE  EMPEROR      317 

behind  this  funeral  party.  Then  it  was  in  order  to  do 
honour  to  this  person  they  had  come. 

The  coffin  was  carried  down  to  the  town  hall  and 
placed  beside  the  one  already  there.  August  Dar  Nol 
arranged  the  trestles  so  that  the  two  coffins  would 
rest  side  by  side.  The  second  coffin  was  not  so  new 
and  shiny  as  Katrina's.  It  looked  as  if  it  had  been 
washed  by  many  rains,  and  had  seen  rough  handling, 
for  it  was  both  scratched  and  broken  at  the  edges. 

All  the  folk  from  the  Ashdales  suddenly  caught  their 
breath.  For  then  they  knew  it  was  not  a  Dar  Nol  that 
lay  in  this  coffin!  And  they  also  knew  that  it  was  not 
for  the  sake  of  some  stranger  of  exalted  rank  that  so 
many  people  had  come  out  to  church.  Instantly  every 
one  looked  at  Glory  Goldie,  to  see  whether  she  under- 
stood.    It  was  plain  she  did.  ' 

Glory  Goldie,  pale  and  heart-broken,  had  been  stand- 
ing all  the  while  by  her  mother's  coffin,  and  as  she 
recognized  the  one  that  had  been  brought  from  the 
Dar  Nol  home  she  was  beside  herself  with  joy  as  one 
becomes  when  gaining  something  for  which  one  has  long 
been  striving.  However,  she  immediately  controlled 
her  emotion.  Then,  smiling  wistfully,  she  lightly 
stroked  the  lid  of  Katrina's  coffin. 


3i8     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

"Now  it  has  turned  out  as  well  for  you  as  ever  you 
could  have  wished,"  she  seemed  to  be  saying  to  her 
dead  mother. 

August  Dar  Nol  then  stepped  up  to  Glory  Goldie  and 
took  her  by  the  hand.  "No  doubt  this  arrangement  is 
satisfactory  to  you,"  he  said.  "We  found  him  only 
last  Friday.  I  thought  it  would  be  easier  for  you  this 
way." 

Glory  Goldie  stammered  a  few  words,  but  her  lips 
quavered  so  that  she  could  hardly  be  understood. 
"Thanks.  It's  all  right.  I  know  he  has  come  to 
mother,  and  not  to  me." 

"He  has  come  to  you  both,  be  assured  of  that,  Glory 
Goldie!"  said  August  Dar  Nol. 

The  old  mistress  of  Falla,  who  was  now  well  on  to- 
ward eighty  and  bowed  down  by  the  weight  of  many 
sorrows,  had  come  to  the  funeral  out  of  regard  for 
Katrina,  who  for  many  years  had  been  her  faithful 
servant  and  friend.  She  had  brought  with  her  the  im- 
perial cap  and  stick,  which  had  been  returned  to  her 
after  Jan's  death.  She  intended  to  place  them  in  the 
grave  with  Katrina,  thinking  the  old  woman  would 
like  to  have  with  her  some  reminder  of  Jan. 

Presently  Glory  Goldie  turned  to  the  old  mistress  of 


THE  BURIAL  OF  THE  EMPEROR      319 

Falla  and  asked  her  for  the  imperial  regaHa,  and  then 
she  stood  the  long  stick  up  against  Jan's  coffin  and  set 
the  cap  on  top  of  the  stick.  Every  one  understood  that 
she  was  sorry  now  that  she  had  not  wanted  Jan  to  deck 
himself  out  in  these  emblems  of  royalty  and  was  trying 
to  make  what  slight  amends  she  could.  There  is  so 
little  that  one  can  do  for  the  dead! 

Instantly  the  stick  was  placed  there  the  bells  in  the 
church  tower  began  ringing  and  the  pastor,  the  sexton, 
and  the  verger  came  out  from  the  vestry  and  took  their 
places  at  the  head  of  the  funeral  procession. 

The  rain  came  in  showers  that  day,  but  it  happened, 
luckily,  that  there  was  a  let-up  while  the  people  formed 
into  line — menfolk  first,  then  womenfolk — to  follow 
the  two  old  peasants  to  their  grave.  Those  who  lined 
up  looked  a  little  surprised  at  their  being  there,  for  they 
did  not  feel  any  grief,  nor  did  they  care  especially  to 
honour  either  of  the  dead.  It  was  simply  this:  when 
the  news  was  spread  throughout  the  parish  that  Jan 
of  Ruffluck  had  come  back  just  in  time  to  be  buried  with 
Katrina  they  had  all  felt  that  there  was  something 
singularly  touching  and  miraculous  about  this,  which 
made  them  want  to  come  and  see  the  old  couple  re- 
united  in    death.     And    of   course    no  one    dreamed 


320     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA] 

that  the  same  thought  would  occur  to  so  many  others. 
They  felt  that  this  was  almost  too  much  of  a  demon- 
stration for  a  couple  of  poor  and  lowly  cotters.  People 
glanced  at  one  another  rather  shamefacedly;  but  now 
that  they  were  there,  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  go 
along  to  the  churchyard.  Then,  as  it  occurred  to  them 
that  this  was  just  what  the  Emperor  of  Portugallia 
would  have  liked,  they  smiled  to  themselves. 

Two  mace-bearers  (for  there  was  also  one  from  the 
Ashdales)  walked  in  front  of  the  coflSns,  and  the  whole 
parish  marched  in  the  funeral  procession.  It  could  not 
have  been  better  had  the  Emperor  himself  arranged  for 
it.  And  they  were  not  altogether  certain  that  the  whole 
thing  was  not  his  doing.  He  had  become  so  wonderful 
after  his  death,  had  the  old  Emperor.  He  must  have 
had  a  purpose  in  letting  his  daughter  wait  for  him;  a 
purpose  in  rising  up  out  of  the  deep  at  just  the  right 
time — as  sure  as  fate  I 

When  they  had  all  come  up  to  the  wide  grave  and  the 
coffins  had  been  lowered  into  it,  the  sexton  sang  "My 
every  step  leads  to  the  grave." 

Sexton  Blackie  was  now  an  old  man.  His  singing 
reminded  Glory  Goldie  of  that  of  another  old  man,  to 
whom  she  had  not  wanted  to  listen.    And  the  recollec- 


THE  BURIAL  OF  THE  EMPEROR      321 

tion  of  this  brought  with  it  bitter  anguish;  she  pressed 
her  hands  to  her  heart  and  closed  her  eyes,  so  as  not  to 
betray  her  sufferings. 

And  while  she  stood  thus  she  saw  before  her  her  father 
as  he  had  been  in  her  childhood,  when  he  and  she  were 
such  good  friends  and  comrades.  She  recognized  his 
face  as  she  had  seen  it  one  Sunday  morning  after  a 
blizzard,  when  the  road  was  knee-deep  with  snow  and 
he  had  to  carry  her  to  church.  She  saw  him  again  as  he 
appeared  the  Sunday  she  went  to  church  in  the  red 
dress.  No  one  had  ever  looked  kinder  or  happier  than 
Jan  did  then.  But  after  that  day  there  had  been  no 
more  happiness  for  him,  and  she  had  never  been  quite 
contented  either. 

She  strove  to  hold  this  face  before  her  eyes.  It  did 
her  good.  There  rose  up  in  her  such  a  strong  wave  of 
tenderness  as  she  looked  at  it!  That  face  only  wished 
her  well.  It  was  not  something  to  be  feared.  This  was 
just  the  old  kind-hearted  Jan  of  Ruffluck.  He  would 
never  sit  in  judgment  upon  her;  he  would  not  bring 
misfortune  and  suffering  upon  his  only  child. 

Glory  Goldie  had  found  peace.  She  had  come  into  a 
world  of  love  now  that  she  could  see  her  father  as  he 
was.     She  wondered  how  she  could  ever  have  imagined 


322     THE  EMPEROR  OF  PORTUGALLIA 

that  he  hated  her;  he,  who  only  wanted  to  forgive! 
Wherever  she  was  or  wherever  she  went  he  would  be 
there  to  protect  her;  he  had  no  thought  or  wish  but 
that. 

Again  she  felt  the  great  tenderness  well  up  in  her 
heart  like  a  mighty  wave — filling  her  whole  being. 
Then  she  knew  that  all  was  well  again  between  her 
father  and  her;  that  he  and  she  were  one,  as  in  the  old 
days.  Now  that  she  loved  him,  there  was  nothing 
to  be  atoned. 

Glory  Goldie  awoke  as  from  a  dream.  While  she 
had  stood  looking  into  her  father's  kindly  face  the 
pastor  had  performed  the  burial  service.  Now  he  was 
addressing  a  few  remarks  to  the  people;  he  thanked 
them,  one  and  all,  for  coming  to  this  funeral.  It  was 
no  great  or  distinguished  man  that  had  just  been  laid 
to  rest,  he  said,  but  he  was  perhaps  one  who  had  borne 
the  richest  and  warmest  heart  in  these  regions. 

When  the  pastor  said  this  the  people  again  glanced 
at  one  another.  And  now  every  one  looked  pleased 
and  satisfied.  The  parson  was  right:  it  was  because  of 
Jan's  great  heart  they  had  come  to  the  funeral. 

Then  the  pastor  spoke  a  few  words  to  Glory  Goldie. 
He  said  that  she  had  received  greater  love  from  her 


THE  BURIAL  OF  THE  EMPEROR      323 

parents  than  had  any  one  he  knew  of,  and  that  such 
love  could  only  turn  to  blessing. 

At  this  everybody  looked  over  at  Glory  Goldie,  and 
they  all  marvelled  at  what  they  saw.  The  pastor's 
saying  had  already  come  true.  For  there,  at  the  grave 
of  her  parents,  stood  Glory  Goldie  Sunnycastle,  who 
had  been  named  by  the  Sun  itself,  shining  like  one 
transfigured!  She  was  as  beautiful  now  as  on  that 
Sunday  when  she  came  to  church  in  the  red  dress,  if  not 
more  btautiful. 

THE  END 


IHE  COUNTBT  UFB  PBESS 

OABDBN  crrr,  n.  t. 


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